


Unwind

by AngstyAlb



Category: Original Work, The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask, The Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time
Genre: Angst, Cover Art, Dark Fantasy, Death, Digital Art, Drama, Elsewhere Fic, Falling In Love, Future Fic, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Major Original Character(s), Monsters, Mutual Pining, Mystery, Original Character(s), Original Character-centric, Post-Canon, Romance, Slow Burn, Suicide Attempt, Supernatural Elements, Time Loop
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:21:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 101,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24051259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngstyAlb/pseuds/AngstyAlb
Summary: Lance Wisteria is a young man that never imagined himself to amount to much of anything in his life. When his mother falls gravely ill he takes it upon himself to pursue a rumored cure lurking in the Woods of Mystery. It is here he has a life changing encounter with a darkness that made its home in the depths. His soul is nearly stolen, but not before being interrupted by a mysterious white-haired being who takes pity on him.The next time he opens his eyes he's in his bed, and it's two days prior to the incident in the woods. Mystified by dreams of a forgotten time, Lance sets out on a journey to understand the meaning behind his death.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 74
Kudos: 17





	1. Back to the Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Since Nintendo won't do anything with this setting, I'm here to play around with it and create something new! I appreciate any feedback, what I'm doing well and what I'm doing not so well!
> 
> Please enjoy :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 8/11/2020: Edited for improved readability.  
> 10/18/2020: Cover photo added! Artist is @the_jdk_art on twitter.

As an adolescent transitioning to adulthood, there were several things you were taught when you became of age. When you were old enough for the soldiers at the gate to no longer impede your steps outside the city walls, your life became your own responsibility.

Tread carefully in the lands at the cardinals of your compass, for Terminians are not welcome everywhere they go. That was the first and most commonly broken rule, but fools will be fools no matter the precautions. The second was to not travel at night. While day travel with guays pecking at your head and chus nipping your heels was bad enough, bubbles came out at night and would lay a nasty curse upon you. Mortals should always fear the dark fey if they wish to live to see another day. The third -and the most treacherous to break- was never to venture into the Woods of Mystery. If you do, you will surely die.

The final rule was the one Lance decided to break today, along with his two trusted friends Orwen and Thane he had managed to coerce. Every young adult had that tantalizing desire to discover the secrets of the unknown, and he easily tapped into both of their innate curiosities. Perhaps they could be the first ones to venture into the Woods and return alive, not only as courageous adventurers but as selfless heroes?

Lance kept a brave face as he traversed into the Southern Swamp. His blood ran cold with fear, but they couldn’t know that. Courage was mostly convincing yourself your bravery was true, at least that thought sounded nice in his head.

“Mrs. Wisteria would rather have you by her side than lose her son for the hope of a cure,” his friend Thane cautiously reminded him. He had done nothing but remind him all morning, but never made a greater effort to stop him. “This is the last chance to turn back and forget all about this idea. We’re practically to the swamp.”

Lance huffed and maintained his face ever forward. He couldn’t see it, but his two companions looked at each other with a forlorn expression.

“It’s not a hope Thane; we will find the toadstool that can cure my mother’s sickness. The merchant said that it had almost more than wiped the disease out had they not been forbidden from selling it any longer,” Lance answered with certainty. Whom he was trying to convince he could not say for certain.

“There must be a reason nobody sells it anymore. I hear the Deku don’t permit people to forage in the woods anymore. They’re not greedy people. Something has to have happened,” pondered Orwen as well. Orwen was a man of few words, so when he chose to speak it was with good reason. Lance could not reply, but merely tucked his head toward his chest and spurred his horse along. They would arrive at the forest’s edge soon.

* * *

It was under the cover of night they slipped past the nearby Deku in the swamp. The sentries appeared bored and inattentive, meaning this place was rarely disturbed. Once they slipped past the hut of the swamp witches’ however, there wasn’t a single indication of life to be seen. For a place so dangerous, the boys had anticipated a nigh impenetrable defense. This was almost disappointing.

Lance scoffed. They would take better care of protecting this place if any significant number of people went missing here. “I think the merchants are just a bunch of cowards that heard too many bedtime stories growing up. Or perhaps life saving medicine just wasn’t making a profit anymore,” Lance whispered. Then silence resumed aside from three sets of hoof beats.

Deeper and deeper into the Woods they went, cutting symbols into the trees so that they may find their way back out. He believed them to be able to outsmart the ancient woods, unconvinced they could trap someone in their maze if they were prepared. Their destination was a specific spot where this bright violet toadstool grew which according to hearsay was located where the trees grew close together and the leaves smothered the little light they would receive from the waning moon.

As they traveled deeper, Lance couldn’t help but feel his paranoia grow. The trees jostled with life, both of small and large varieties. He was certain the small bodies were that of the mischievous monkeys that were the only known creatures to understand the maze of the woods. The larger movements, perhaps snappers stalking their prey. Hopefully, they weren’t said prey.

After an unknown passage of time -had it been minutes or hours Lance couldn’t say- he finally saw something more than trees and overgrowth. Under a stream of moonlight, in the middle of a fairy ring, was a fallen tree that created a gap in the crown. All over this rotting log he could see the vibrant violet even at this distance. He could barely contain his emotions as moisture seeped from his eyes and a gasp escaped his throat.

“Orwen! Thane! We’ve found it, don’t you see?” he cried out in joy, turning to his two friends.

But they were nowhere to be seen.

“Guys, this isn’t funny. I need you to come out right now. Please, please just come out and tell me this is a joke,” he croaked as his chest clenched. He would find the toadstools again, he most certainly would. His friends needed him now.

Lance spurred his horse on down the same path for several minutes, wondering just how on Termina he could have lost them without noticing all this time. Was he truly so focused he would not notice the sounds of their horses fading away? Then he closed his eyes and focused his hearing.

There it was! In the distance ahead he could hear a pair of horses trotting, and set into a gallop. Why did their sound not get any closer? Were they riding away from something? Lance just assumed the horses got spooked and fled, and his friends had been struggling to rein them in this whole time.

Suddenly jarred out of his full-on gallop the horse dug in its heels and Lance was sent careening forward from his saddle. The flight through the air felt like eternity as he waited to crash head first and only hope he wouldn’t collide his head with a rock. Instead, he landed on something soft that left him in a stupor.

Once he shook the daze from his eyes and his pupils refocused to the surrounding darkness he saw he was laying on the body of a dead horse. Instantly he reeled back and scrambled backwards, failing to stabilize himself to get to his feet. It was his worst nightmare. The bodies of not only the horses but of his friends were lying on the forest floor. He, in turn, was covered in the blood of the beast he landed on. As all those sensations registered in his brain, his body began voiding the contents of his stomach in horror.

He had no time to grieve unfortunately, as he heard the sound of the hoof beats from before, and they were galloping straight towards him. Lance reached up and used the reins on his horse to balance himself upright. After struggling for seconds too long, he returned to the saddle and sped off in the opposite direction of the sound. He made a silent promise to return for their bodies one day.

The path of the forest never seemed to change but Lance continued on at a full gallop. He continued peeking behind him to see what was chasing him but it was always just outside his range of vision. Tears continued streaming down his face making it hard to see which left him to rely on the horse to keep them from colliding with a tree. He passed by the fairy circle once, twice, then three times as he kept changing paths to escape his pursuers.

Lance was fully convinced now; the maze had consumed him and was going to die. “I’m sorry Mother. I know I should have listened to you. Listening to you is what got me this far in life to begin with. I try to do the first thing I decide on my own, and I’m going to die. I’m sorry Father. I know I already disappointed you for not wanting to become a politician, but now you have no heir and will soon be a widower. And I’m sorry Aryn, we were each other’s chance at happiness and now neither of us will know it,” he whispered under his breath.

He wasn’t giving up this fight. At least with the spirits who might be listening to him hearing his apologies, he felt at the very least a little more at peace with his circumstances. There was something in his gut this entire time that told him he would probably die today, but he pushed it down in favor of hope.

The horse began to tire; Lance could hear it in his breathing and the way he was slowing down. Eventually the horse tripped over a gnarled root and sent them both tumbling down to the ground. As he fell, he was sure the horse had broken its leg. Upon landing on the ground, his head collided with a rock instantly knocking him unconscious.

* * *

When Lance awoke, he found himself unable to properly breathe. He was inhaling something that was constricting his throat and coating the insides of his lungs. Aimlessly his arms reached out to find his horse, desperate to know if he had lured another companion to uncertain death. His fingers only grasped at the earth.

Upon opening his eyes, he saw a creature was crouching on top of his chest. Lance could not identify it by sight, nor would his arms move to push it off his chest. A raging inferno burned behind the creature, and the combination of that as well as the pressure on his lungs made breathing more arduous with each exhale.

This creature was neither animal nor human, or any other race he knew of in the land. It looked like an indistinct mass of black that fluctuated from rigid sharp shapes that could tear his flesh asunder to a blurry outline he couldn’t fully separate from the darkness of the night.

This creature’s eyes, if that’s what they were, were illuminated golden orbs with no dark blemishes on them to be seen. He could feel its face getting closer to his own, but his body was incapable of responding to push it off. Lance then felt what he could only determine to be the creature’s breath being blown into his mouth. Normally this would be repulsive, but it in fact caused his body to relax and grow more weary. His eyes closed once more.

With his eyes closed there was no perception of time that passed, only the yearning for slumber that plagued his aching body. In this state of limbo, his mind couldn't help but wander to his mother. It wasn't regret that made him fixate on her, but just knowing he was going to break the heart of the only person in this world to truly care about him.

It wasn’t until he felt the pressure on his chest disappear entirely that he remembered he had things in the world to live for, and that dying was not an option he would take willingly.

Lance’s eyes opened again to the wildfire, but no longer was there a peculiar beast crouching on his body. Instead, mere feet from his body stood a lone figure of fantastical beauty. This person was slender and a bit shorter than himself, but the white mane cascading down his back in a messy braid made his long brown hair feel inexplicably plain. Despite being moments from perishing, Lance couldn’t pull himself away from being dazzled by this creature of the woods.

The figure then approached him and kneeled next to Lance getting uncomfortably close to his face. They looked to be studying him, but there was another emotion there that was difficult to describe. Upon closer inspection their eyes were an icy blue that showed only an expression of solemn anger. Was that directed at him for his group trespassing in the forest? Lance could not take in a solid breath enough to form the words to even ask.

“A human it looks like, but he has already fallen to those that lurk in the darkness. Pity,” the stranger spoke to no one specific.

Had this being not sent that creature to attack him? There would be no reason to lie; his friends were dead, and he would be soon too. Was there a chance perhaps he might save his life instead? His eyes couldn’t help but betray that hope.

The being caught his look with a stare that pierced right into his very being. “Sorry kid, you’ve already breathed in enough smoke to kill a weaker human. Plus, you look like something made an attempt to extract your soul but failed. You’re gonna be dead in mere moments. Answer me this, though, and I may end it even sooner for you. Why did you, or whoever attacked you, set my woods on fire? Are you an agent of chaos, or simply a fool?” the stranger inquired, not at all expecting a verbal answer. They were only looking into his eyes.

Lance was barely focusing at this point as his eyes began to droop, death approaching. The stranger must have been satisfied as they then stepped away from his body. As Lance relaxed and let go of this world, his last vision of this life was the toadstools he sought after incinerating in the flames. He heard the somber notes of a flute being played, but it was not a song he could recognize.

That was the last thing he recalled before he died.

* * *

“Young Master! Young Master Lance! It’s time to wake up for breakfast,” an older woman in a maid’s outfit was shaking Lance awake in his bed. He was used to her waking him up in this manner, but today he bolted up with a deep gasp and sweat beading down his forehead.

She stepped back with a gasp of her own as Lance took several deep gulps of air, clenching the sheets before his body levelled out. Eventually, his eyes focused. He saw he was in his own bed in his own house, and not surrounded by a forest fire.

Wait, why would he be in a burning forest? Just what was this dream he'd been having?

“What is it, dear? Did you have a nightmare?” the gentle old woman inquired of Lance. He looked up at her with a hallowed expression.

“Abi, I...I-I think I died last night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've now created a blog for this fic! You may follow me there to talk with me and get some extra content I will post there.
> 
> [tumblr](https://likethegearsofaclock.tumblr.com/)


	2. Dawn of the First Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 8/13/2020 - Edited for improved readability

“Oh. Oh, you just had a bad dream,” she murmured, pulling his head to her bosom and stroking his hair gently. “That’s all it was, you’re awake and alive now. I wouldn’t lie to you, Master Lance.”

The things that would have once comforted him as a young child still work just as effectively as they once did all those years ago. This felt no different than times he cried over a scraped knee or his father's harsh scolding. He wrapped his arms around her waist for a big hug as he waited for his nerves to calm down.

Eventually, they separated, and he shrugged out from under his blanket to begin greeting the day.

“Breakfast will be ready half past the hour so you have time to wash up beforehand if you’d like me to run a bath for you, Master Lance,” she suggested as she worked to make his bed. Instantly she was back into the role of a servant, a separation she worked hard to maintain except for moments like the one prior.

“That’s alright Abi, I haven't the stomach for a full meal and I have some matters to attend to today. Just prepare something simple for me,” he spoke while retrieving his day clothes from the wardrobe.

She perked a disapproving eyebrow but did not protest his request. With his nightmare this morning and the health of his mother, she couldn’t blame the boy for losing his appetite. “Of course, sir.” She then nodded and left the room to allow him privacy.

Lance quickly removed his clothing and washed off his face and body with a bit of soap and water. His frantic dreaming caused him to sweat profusely through the night. Then he dressed in his usual outfit of a loose white shirt under a waistcoat and trousers, gave his shoulder-length hair a quick comb through, and exited his bedroom.

After passing many hallways and a grand stairway, he sat down in the dining room to wait for his meal. Looking at the other end of the table, he saw a dirty plate and empty cup of tea, an indication he had just missed his father before he headed out the door. This made Lance offer a silent thank you to the Giants.

As quickly as he arrived he was just as urgent about leaving as well. He needed to visit his mother in the hospital as he did every visitation day, but due to the events he recalled in his dream there was something he needed to confirm.

Not only did he remember his death, but he remembered the death of his two closest friends too. He couldn’t block the image of their bloody corpses twisted into unnatural positions from his mind and needed to see them alive. That way he’d have an easier time convincing himself it was all a dream. A very vivid dream that he seemed to remember too well.

The closest to his home was Orwen, so he took the short walk to another part of the residential district to pay him a visit. Hurriedly he rapped at the front door to then be greeted by Orwen’s mother.

“Oh, Lance, you're here rather early in the day. I assumed you would be at the hospital right now. Thane is visiting as well, so you boys probably have something cooked up I imagine. Come on in.” She ushered him in with a wave of her hand as Lance ducked past.

There the two were, having coffee in the living quarters without a care in the world. As if Lance hadn't been feeling like he was losing his mind all morning.

“Oy! What’re you doing here Lance? We were about to go and see you and your mom,” Thane queried.

“I have a favor for you two. Can we spar in the garden?” Lance looked at Orwen and Thane expectantly, implying he wasn't going to take no for an answer.

“You owe us an explanation afterwards, bud,” Thane answered with an excited grin.

The three boys all laid on the grass, exhausted after their time exchanging blows. Lance prided himself in his skill with his rapier, but Thane’s skill with a pole arm was on a whole other level. Orwen suffered the same experience wielding his broadsword.

“You know dreams don't mean anything, right?” Thane chided him playfully.

“It just felt so real and still feels real. I find myself having to concentrate just to keep breathing. I'm afraid to even blink for fear I’ll open my eyes to see the flames,” Lance said with a hollow voice.

“You'll feel better once you visit your mom. She’ll tell you you're getting worked up over some kind of foolish superstition and tell you to focus on bigger problems,” Orwen added.

Lance gave a weak laugh in agreement. “Yeah, probably, the wedding is in two weeks. Life has just been coming at me too fast lately.”

Thane elbowed him in the side. “This is what people call those pre-wedding jitters don't you know? Aryn is probably going through the exact thing as you.”

“I doubt it. If anyone was strong enough to handle whatever life would throw at them, it would be Aryn. I'm just adrift at sea waiting for someone to guide me where I'm supposed to go,” Lance finished under his breath.

Just as they had resolved to stand up and start getting cleaned up to depart they all heard the loud barks of an unhappy man. Without even looking they all knew it was the voice of Mayor Wisteria.

“Boy, I have been all over creation looking for you. You know we only get a few days a week to see your mother and you're just here playing with your friends. Come on, if we hurry we can make it before dinnertime,” he ordered as he roughly grasped his son by the elbow.

“I wasn't playing, Father,” he said as he jerked his arm away. “I was having a crisis and needed to blow off steam. You can't fault me for something like that.” He eyed his father in a challenging manner.

“What could you possibly be in a crisis about, boy? You have a fantastic life that's only about to start. Do you know how many people of this town would kill to be as fortunate as you? Don’t make excuses just come on-”

“Would you just listen to me for once? Lance finally shouted with his feet rooted to the spot.

Mayor Wisteria sighed, crossed his arms and looked Lance dead in the eyes. “All right, you’ve got everyone in Clock Town’s attention now. What is so terrible?” he inquired impatiently, tapping his foot against the ground.

Lance took a deep breath and told his father all about his dream. As a result, his father made an expression he hadn’t seen since his mother was diagnosed with a terminal illness.

“You had a dream of your own death as well as your two friends? Well, that’s certainly unsettling Lance but as you can see they’re perfectly fine and so are you,” his father admonished with an impatient expression.

“Let that be a lesson that leaving central Termina is senseless endangerment to your life. Perhaps one of Dad’s old lessons is getting through to you,” he stated as he grasped Lance by the elbow.

He knew this battle and it was always easier to just concede. There was rarely a time when his father spared his input a second thought since he always subscribed to the “respect your parents before anything else” school of thought. Lance merely rolled his eyes and allowed himself to be dragged along as he threw his friends a forlorn look.

* * *

Despite his sour mood, entering his mother’s hospital room and seeing her again never failed to lift his spirits no matter how low. He stood solemnly at the doorway as his father shuffled in to disrupt the nurse taking her vitals, shaking his head all the while. Lance had to admit he agreed with his father on one thing, and that was in adoration of this woman right here.

“Are you alright my love? Pillows fluffed? Fresh linens? Was lunch to your liking?” His father prattled off his inquiries without sparing a moment for her to reply. Not that she tried as she sat there looking serene as could be in her condition. Her hand lifted to caress his father’s cheek and his own hand moved to clasp it against his face. He settled his nerves and allowed the nurse to continue, grabbing a chair and sitting close.

Lance did as well on the opposite side of the bed, content to quietly listen without speaking. He did his best to avoid acknowledging the discoloration of her face and the thinning of her hair. She had been sick for almost a year now, and her health had never improved in this entire time. Certainly she has bad days and good ones; this is appearing to be a better one as he caught a smile that managed to reach her eyes while amused by her husband.

He had been badgering his father, the mayor, for several days now to look into this medicine he heard about in the marketplace earlier this week. His father was staunchly against it, going so far as to turn red in the face and refuse to hear of such a thing ever again. An explanation for why was apparently too much to ask as Lance never received any such reasoning. He supposed he would just have to take matters into his own hands.

Eventually, some hours passed and dinnertime arrived. The three ate together and joined her in her bland hospital meal of under-seasoned chicken with boiled vegetables and a piece of fruit. They all agreed heartily the fruit was the highlight of the meal.

His father pulled a pocket watch from his breast pocket and examined it, which caused him to abruptly stand up and stow it away once more. “Well, my family, I must take off for the evening as I’ve a meeting with the city council regarding the carnival. Margaret, Lance,” he regarded each of them in turn. The look to his mother was gentle, but the one for himself was stern and expectant.

After his father left, Lance let out a long sigh, one that surprised him even. It felt like he’d been holding that in for a while, and he noticed his mother laugh in response.

“I wish you two would get along better. You’re more alike than either of you realize,” she spoke with mirth in her eyes.

He nodded, despising to acknowledge the observation despite believing it entirely himself. “We might be similar, but I think we respond to things differently. I at least want to deal with the problems I face, he just wants to build up walls around his problems,” he protested half-heartedly.

“Age makes a person more cautious. You don’t feel invincible as you do in your youth. Plus, he has a family to think of before taking great actions,” she reminded him while taking small bites of the orange his father had peeled for her.

“I think placing a harsher tax on foreign merchants who sell in Clock Town is more than being cautious. It’s approaching outright xenophobia,” said Lance.

She took a moment to carefully chew and swallow her fruit before answering, as a complication from choking could end her life very quickly. “I’m not saying the decisions he makes are always the best ones, but they come from a well-meaning place. My sickness has had a large impact on you both and I know it, you don’t need to dance around it Lance.” She rested her hand atop his own hands that were tightly clenched together in front of him.

“He-” she began, but was interrupted.

“He just wants to keep us and Clock Town safe as best he can. I know, I know. I just- I just really believe there’s more that could be done to try and treat your illness. There are more medicines outside Termina and Ikana that we can still try,” he pleaded, but she gave her own sigh instead in response.

“I’ve already accepted my time on this earth is drawing to a close. I led a beautiful life, albeit a shorter one than I would have liked, with a loving husband and a son we both adored with all our hearts. Most people don’t get that, Lance." She paused in reflection, then abruptly her face lit up with a happier thought in mind. "Your wedding is in two weeks, right? Oh, I’m so excited for you! It really surprised your father and I that you were ready to settle down, but we were so elated that you proposed to Aryn. She’s such a nice girl.” His mother smiled deeply while more than likely reminiscing about her own wedding.

“Y-yeah, it’s really coming up soon huh? I still need to get fitted for a suit and will need to pack up my belongings to move to Romani Ranch,” he mentioned nervously.

“Nonsense! Your father and I want you to always feel like this is your home as well, so you can leave what you like. You’ll get plenty of new things as wedding gifts, or I’m sure your new wife won’t have you living there without the utmost comforts. You two have been friends since you were little, what a beautiful romance you two have had without us ever even knowing about it,” she spoke wistfully.

Lance continued to listen to her and entertain her excitement for his impending wedding. He, however, was deathly afraid of this supposed next step of his adult life. Eventually, the sun completely set and the moon was glowing high in the sky. This was his usual cue to start heading for home. He then stood up to kiss his mother on her brow and extinguish the candle on the wall illuminating the room.

As he opened the door to leave, he heard his mother call out to him in the darkness. “Now, if you’re getting married soon, if you get to it quickly enough I may get to see my grandchildren before leaving thi-”

“Good night Mother! I’ll visit you as soon as I can. Love you Mom.”

“I love you, Lance,” she whispered with notes of both happiness and sadness in her voice.

* * *

The next day he decided to pay Romani Ranch a visit to meet with his fiancee. He still couldn’t get that dream out of his mind, but he didn’t want to burden his mother with such ominous thoughts. His pursuit of the toadstools didn't need to be known by her either. That made Aryn the next best person to talk about what was on his mind.

After eating a hearty breakfast alone, he saddled up his horse and left Clock Town before the sun rose fully over the Ikana Mountains. It was a brisk morning, which he came equipped for with his thick riding coat worn over his waistcoat and trousers.

As he trotted over to Milk Road, he couldn’t stop himself from staring in the direction of the Southern Swamp. If he weren’t alone and heading that direction, he would feel like this was deja vu. What happened to him felt like memories of a traumatic event, but his body lacked the muscle memory to respond to it in the appropriate fashion. It was vexing, and upsettingly so.

As soon as he pulled his mind away from it, he was passing under the archway of the boisterous farm. Unlike the sleepy Clock Town, Romani Ranch was in full motion by now and many of the morning chores were nearing completion. As he rode in up the path, there were many farmhands and ranchers that hollered in his direction and gave him a jubilant wave. He couldn’t return it with as much fervor, but Lance was genuinely happy to be in this place.

Striding up to the farmhouse, his fiancee Aryn was standing there with her father who both looked to have been tending to the stables. Upon seeing him ride up her face lit up and her father even cracked a wide smile at his presence. He dismounted from the horse and walked up to greet her.

Her form appeared to glide across the ground almost akin to a mythical being than what a young woman would be capable of doing. Despite wearing filthy farm clothes, her presence was always radiant and warm to bear witness to.

Approaching him, she leaned up to kiss him, her lips pressing softly on the corner of his mouth as he enveloped her in a hug. Slowly she pulled back with a smile before looking at him with an inquisitive expression.

“I didn’t know you were coming by today or I would have made sure to be wearing something more presentable,” she said with a wry smile. She spoke just loud enough for her father to hear as he walked over to join them.

“Well I’m just full of surprises, that’s something you’ll just have to get used to,” he replied with a warm chuckle. “Actually, I came by because I had something I needed to discuss with you. About the wedding, of course.”

She nodded, albeit cautiously. Aryn pulled from his embrace when her father walked up. “Papa, I’m going to speak with Lance for a bit. Can you finish the stables without me?” she asked her father, having already begun to lead Lance by the elbow to the front door of their home.

“Well I reckon that’s alright. Just don’t you be doin’ anything inappropriate with my daughter young man. Your wedding is almost here, don’t go spoilin’ it.” Her father barked a laugh at his own crude joke.

“Oh but Lance, yer horse is-” The front door was already closed behind them. Her father sighed before grabbing the reins and leading it to a post.

Aryn rushed them both inside through the entrance dining hall and past her mother and siblings who were cleaning the house as well as beginning preparations for lunch. Luckily they paid the pair no mind, and after a quick step up the stairs she led them to her bedroom.

Closing the door, she promptly let go of Lance’s elbow and strode over to the center of the room to start undressing from her work clothes.

“Hey! Aryn, what are you doing?” Lance asked; voice hushed and aggressive.

She turned her head to look at him like he was being foolish before fully pulling the shirt over her head. “Lance, we used to swim nude in the bay when we were kids. Lighten up,” she said in a humorous tone, walking in his direction.

While walking past him, a finger glided across his stomach on her way to her closet, stripped down to her skivvies. “Besides, it’s not like you’re tempted or anything,” she stated while perusing her closet for a simple day dress.

“That’s beside the point Aryn. We both know I’m not here to talk about wedding matters. I need my best friend,” Lance pleaded with her as he walked over to take a seat at the chair in front of her vanity.

“Well, Lancelot, your best friend is still here. She’s also wearing clothes that smell like horse poop. You can keep your knickers out of a knot and wait for me to find something comfortable." She chose a white cotton dress with patterns of cows embroidered into the fabric. Her face lit up as she spun around to display it for his approval.

With a thumbs up, he conceded. It was a fair request. Lance waited in perfect silence as she took her time getting properly dressed. She then plopped herself down on her bed, legs crisscrossing in front of her. Aryn’s dark burgundy hair draped over her shoulders having fallen down from her messy bun.

“Alright, spill the beans pretty boy. Did Daddy catch you reading Mommy’s “special books” again?” she teased with narrowed eyes and mischievous smile.

“What? No. Be serious,” he asked, nearly losing patience.

“Okay, okay, I’m done. I missed you, alright? I know we’re going to be together a lot soon, but it won’t ever be like this unless we’re alone,” she added with an underlying melancholy.

He sighed deeply, hand rubbing over his forearm as he averted her gaze. I know we’re going to be together a lot soon, but it won’t ever be like this unless we’re alone,”

“I missed you too, Aryn Mae.” As he said this, her nose crinkled in joy. “But I’m also not kidding when I say this is the most serious thing I’ve ever talked to you about.” Lance strongly emphasized the word 'serious'.

Her legs uncurled and she leaned forward, with hands clasped in front of her face. “Hit me,” she said curtly.

“So you know how you have a nightmare and it’s really scary when you first wake up but eventually within minutes you’ve forgotten most of it? Well, I had a nightmare like that yesterday. But I can still remember all of it vividly and in it I died. So did Orwen and Thane. I died suffocating and when I woke up I was gasping for breath. Surely this all has to mean something, right?” he asked finally, his eyes having been tilted upwards as he recalled the aforementioned events. This was to avoid seeing her face in case she was looking at him like he’d finally lost his mind. Lance intentionally left out mentioning the darkness creature on his chest or the beautiful person who told him he was going to die.

Eventually his eyes came down and Aryn’s face was a mixed expression of disbelief and worry. It was a little more than he expected but not exactly the response he’d hoped to get. Her lips puckered and swished from side to side as she tried formulating the right words.

After an extensive silence, she piped up. “You remember when we were kids and you were scared to go to the toilet alone at night, so much so that you became a chronic bedwetter?”

“Well, it’s not something I like to remember I did, but I’ve not forgotten.” His mouth turned down into a confused frown.

“You said some monsters lived in the water closet and nearly snatched you one night. Lance, you were so terrified that it drove your poor mother mad,” she said, laughing as she regaled the tale with glee. “But, one night when you slept over I pushed you in there and locked you in all night long. The next morning you weren’t scared of monsters anymore; you were too busy wanting to clobber me upside the head. Not that you could, you were a little squirt until you were eighteen,” she added matter-of-factly.

“So your point is none of my problems are real except how much of a ridiculous bully you are?” he asked once she was done with her story.

“Of course not, dummy. You know that’s not what I mean. If you’re scared of something that isn’t “real” per se, then you just need to confront the source of the fear face to face. Then you can know it’s make believe,” she finished with her head raised high with pride, all too pleased with her analogy.

“I think this is just a little bit different, but I think the basic part of what you’re saying rings true. Thanks,” he said with a wry smile.

“Of course it’s true. And thanks, that gave me great practice for when I retell that story at the wedding.” Her grin spread from ear to ear.

“That’ll be a great accompaniment for my story. Remember when you once threw rocks at my window one night to get me to drink with you and 'the crew' when we were teenagers? You broke my grandmother’s urn because you were too drunk to know which room was mine,” he replied in a teasing manner.

“Hey! You said you’d take that secret to your grave,” she said as she stood up with arms raised threateningly.

“Oh poor Nana, my father blamed the maid for a month before deciding it was the neighborhood ki- oof!” Lance was knocked to the ground as Aryn grasped him by the arms and dragged him to the floor in an attempt to pin him.

They rolled around on her bedroom’s floor for several minutes before collapsing in the center both on their backs. Their breathing was labored, but upon catching their breath they broke out into an uproarious laugh. Eventually, it settled and silence overtook the room.

“When was the last time you talked to Rachel?” Lance broke the silence, the thought weighing heavy on his mind.

“Well, she didn’t answer my last letter from two weeks ago yet and has been brief with me ever since I told her about the wedding. I still have her invitation in my nightstand; it felt wrong to send it to her,” Aryn answered with deep sorrow.

“I can’t say I blame her for feeling weird about the whole thing. She has every right to. Rachel will come around Aryn. She just needs reassuring I won’t ever stand in the way of what you two have,” he replied with a slight encouraging smile.

Aryn pondered in thought for a few moments before responding. “Are we doing the right thing, Lance? This whole...marriage deal.” She rolled over to look at him expectantly.

Typically Aryn was the one with all the answers and rarely had moments of weakness, which Lance chalked up to her being a few years older than him. On certain occasions, when the planets were in alignment, she would look to him for those answers. It wasn’t often he had them.

“I’m really unsure if it’s right. It’s not wrong, I don’t think, at least. After telling me your family wouldn’t support you anymore if you didn’t decide on a suitor, how could I leave you in despair like that?” He rolled over as well and reached out to take one of her hands in his, giving it an encouraging squeeze.

“You’re giving up your life too, Lance. Your parents won't disown you if you don't get married,” she croaked as moisture threatened to overflow from the corners of her eyes.

Lance nodded in acknowledgement, that much he couldn’t refute. “My father gave up on being proud of me years ago when I decided to not go into politics or a suitable apprenticeship. In that way I’m free to do what I want. Since this engagement he’s actually regarded me with an unprecedented amount of kindness. I never expected it, but it’s made me happy in my own way.”

“I love you, Lance, I really do. You’re my best friend, but Rachel is my-” Aryn stopped as Lance interrupted.

“She’s your moon and stars. I know that. If I could have my way, it would be you two getting married with no need for a man in the picture. Sadly that’s not up to you or me, so I’m doing my best to let you have your happiness and play with the world’s rules,” he finished with his own sadness lurking deep within his eyes.

“You’ll have your happiness one day, that’s a promise you hear me? You’ll meet a great person that loves you inside and out. It just requires patience, because you’re a great man and you only deserve the best.”

They pulled each other into a hug, but separated when they heard heavy footsteps treading to her door.

Shortly after Lance left to head back to Clock Town with much on his mind to ponder. Impending wedding, inter-family problems, and a bitter lover of his fiancee just to name a few. Aryn, however, had given him the push he needed to begin confronting his nightmare.

That meant first thing tomorrow he was going to the merchant district to get to the bottom of the rumors about these 'mystical cure-all toadstools'.


	3. Back Alley Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say I appreciate all the kind comments from people so far, you just don't understand how much that truly motivates a writer to continue creating their story!
> 
> With that said, enjoy this week's chapter :)
> 
> 8/24/20- Edited for improved readability

After a fitful night of sleep, Lance eventually roused himself from his poor slumber to a gleam of sunlight shining right directly on his face. He realized he'd slept past his intended waking hour and jolted out of bed so quickly it caused a dizzy spell. Hastily he threw on his outfit from yesterday after his morning grooming and gobbled up the sandwich made from breakfast leftovers that Abigail left for him on his nightstand.

With warm food in his belly and time to differentiate between slumber and consciousness, some of his disorientation dissipated. He still felt severely sleep-deprived but a quick cup of coffee on his way out the door would amend that. Creeping down the grand staircase, he stumbled into the kitchen where Abigail was washing dishes from this morning. Sadly the kettle was empty, so he filled it with fresh water and sat at the dining table while he waited for the water to boil.

"Your father asked for me to inform you that he was sorry for missing you this morning. Oh, and that he had something to give you tonight when he came home, so don't be staying out too late," Abigail announced over the sounds of scrubbing and sloshing water in the sink.

Lance merely grunted an affirmation as he stared at the kettle with his mug ready with coffee grounds in hand. She peeked back to look at him, but he didn't notice with his attention honed on the simmering kettle.

"You look terrible, Master Lance. I know you came in before sundown, you didn't sneak out to play with the boys at midnight did you?" Abigail inquired, not sounding terribly invested in the answer. She had been quick to accept he was an adult about to be married and had next to no interests in parenting a grown man.

"Hm? Oh, no, I just couldn't sleep is all. Just a lot on my mind, you know," he said as he sprang up when the kettle started whistling.

"Getting married is a big deal, especially at your young age. Most men wait until they're close to thirty before settling down, preferring to sow their oats in the prime of their life you know. But you've always been a well-behaved young man in my eyes, so it doesn't surprise me you'd be interested in settling down and starting a family," she said with a lilt in her voice.

"Right, yeah. Hard to not think about that of course." Lance had been thinking almost about anything else but that. The event of marriage itself didn't frighten him, nor did the idea of committing himself to one person until either of them died sound anything but ideal. It was just all the other things wrapped up in the occasion that he was anxious over. Among other things that were filling him with dread.

Lance took a deep gulp of his coffee. It was piping hot, but he was too eager to head out for the day to be patient with the temperature. The hot liquid scalded his tongue and throat, but really he appreciated it helped ground him to reality instead of his thoughts continuously making him drift away.

He winced as he downed the last gulp then stood up from his chair to leave the house. After offering a brief farewell to Abigail, he picked up a satchel by the door and headed directly in the direction of Thane's home.

Knocking thrice with the ornate door knocker he stood back and waited before being greeted at the door by an elderly woman who was Thane's grandmother.

"Oh Lance, I'm sorry you made a trip out here for nothing but Thane stayed over at Orwen's last night. If you'd like you can wait here, I've got a pie cooling on the windowsill if you'd like some," she offered with a warm and caring smile.

He shook his head. "No thank you ma'am, I just wanted to say hello since I was in the neighborhood. Have a good day then," he stated quickly as he abruptly turned around before the kind old woman could lure him in to her cozy abode.

"If you insist," she chuckled. "Hope to see you at the carnival next week, I'll be selling my knitting this year as usual. Will you be in the play again this year?"

"Uh, probably not. Other things have taken priority lately, so I haven't been practicing at all. Someone else will have to play the hero this year," he confessed with a crooked smile. Surprisingly, even to him, acting in the stage play every year since he was fifteen had been something he looked forward to annually. Initially, he was afraid that nepotism was what secured him in the role. Fortunately, after a couple of years of performances, he actually became rather confident in being a lead actor.

Shortly after departing the neighborhood Lance resolved to having to visit the marketplace on his own. His home as well as his friends both resided within North Clock Town, so he would have to make his way to the western district to reach the market.

As Lance was distracted reviewing his plan of action, a young man bumped into him. This stranger bumped into him hard enough to make him stumble and nearly fall over. The stranger had his head hung low and was stumbling, more than likely in a drunken stupor. Lance frowned, but he was not the confrontational type for situations like this.

"You might want to be careful buddy, pickpockets love taking advantage of people like you," he warned in a stern tone.

"Huh? Wha-" The stranger lifted his head, and Lance immediately recognized it was just the man he'd been looking for this morning.

"What are you doing out here so early in the morning and completely cropsick?" Lance grabbed Thane to help steady him, only to realize he really wasn't stumbling all that badly despite blatantly ramming into him moments prior. "I thought you were at Orwen's house? At least that's what your grandma told me."

Thane took a deep breath and let out sigh so blissful it was honestly sickening to hear. "Well, a guy shouldn't kiss and tell but…" Thane dragged out the word before settling into a fit of laughter. Lance knew exactly what had happened now, and it was something about Thane he despised when he was in spells like this.

"Alright, fess up, what's her name?" Lance questioned with little patience to spare.

"Daphne, ya know, the girl from the Treasure Chest game shop?" Thane replied with a goofy grin.

"That terrible flirt? Won't she ask out just about any man she finds attractive that visits the shop? Pretty sure she's hit on me several times as well," Lance countered after letting once realizing Thane was stable on his own.

Thane offered him a sour face. "There's nothing wrong with any of that. She told me she'd never noticed how good-looking I am before and after seeing how big my muscles are." Thane offered a theatrical flex to emphasize his point. "She invited me to help with harvesting from her garden."

"And how'd that go?" Lance genuinely didn't want to know, but he felt he should be supportive as his friend in these matters.

"Well," he stopped as his face went tomato red, "a lot more than gardening happened."

"I imagined that much. Remind me again, how much older is that woman than you?" Lance asked in an effort to tease the man for his choice in women.

"Eight years and stop changing the subject," Thane answered bluntly. "I, well-" At this point he pulled Lance by the collar so he could get his mouth as close to his ear as possible.

"I touched boobs, Lance. It was awesome," Thane whispered hotly in his ear as Lance could hear the giddiness in his voice return.

Lance loved Thane like a brother, but the boy really could lose his mind over any woman that would give him the time of day. At times he felt envious of his ease to feel passionate about another person. As well as how quickly he would get over it, when the spark was eventually snuffed out.

"That's- I'm- good for you, pal," Lance struggled with an appropriate response to his friend's exuberance. Thane prepared to move past him and head home, but Lance put a hand on his shoulder stopping his movement.

"Now, given that you're in a good mood and your grandma isn't expecting you home anytime soon would you be interested in helping me out?" He may have felt awkward about this whole exchange, but he'd be damned if he didn't try capitalizing on his own anguish.

"Yeah? Well, depends on what it is but you know I've always got your back," Thane proclaimed as he bumped a clenched fist to his chest.

Lance nodded in gratitude. "I'm heading over to the marketplace to see if I can follow up on some medicine leads I've picked up the last few weeks. Given I'll probably end up going to the back alley market, I thought it'd be nice having someone else capable in a fight with me."

Thane grinned with great pride. "You want backup in a fight? Oh hell yeah, you came to the right guy."

"I knew I could count on you."

* * *

Given that by this point it was late morning the market was bustling with throngs of housewives and elderly getting first pick of what was on display. Shouts from the fishmongers as they tried selling off their freshly caught fish from the western lakes boomed loudly over the din of commerce. His father had put harsher tariffs on imported goods, so the selection was lackluster. This created the atmosphere of today, with shouting matches and constant undercutting of their competitors to draw customers.

Many others were selling off the remnants of their stock on a steep clearance which came in the form of primarily textiles and supplies for different crafts. When the carnival arrived many merchants altered their entire shop and charged exorbitant prices to take advantage of the travelers and inebriated locals.

Medicinal goods weren't exactly hot commodities at this time, aside from those that were used in the creation of cosmetics and other luxury goods. Both Lance and his friend took glances at each stall as they passed it. This attracted attention from locals who knew Lance by his parentage and the boys avoided each inviting look that wanted to talk. Since his engagement was announced, many maidens within the town had started flirting with him. He assumed it was because he wasn't "available" anymore that made them wish to pursue him, but that wasn't a concept he really understood.

Slinking off to the side in a nearby alley, Lance glanced into the darkness to see the torchlight flickering around the bend. Reaching into his satchel he produced two daggers, handing one off to Thane and holstering his own with the waistband of his trousers.

"I'd prefer not having to use these, but it's better to be safe than sorry," Lance stated. His eyes keenly focused on the deep darkness of the alleyway. Thane merely nodded and imitated his placement.

The back alley market was not exactly an illegal market set up mere yards away from the main road, but it was considered poorly monitored by the city guard. All the real estate in this section was owned by the Valerio family, so they were in charge of protecting and managing the properties. It was obviously their scheme to allow trading of otherwise illicit goods in Clock Town, given their organization was based in Ikana. However, there was very little the mayor could do about the situation. So it continued to be permitted to exist.

Entering into the seedy underbelly of Termina always came with a certain amount of risk. If you were robbed, injured, or even killed there wouldn't be much of an investigation into the crime unless you were someone of significance. Lance hated to throw around his family status, but he hoped that would dissuade someone from trying to mug him here.

Immediately upon stepping into this area was where he saw a majority of the diversity that the main market lacked. Deku, gorons, and zora were all present here. Even some foreign races Lance had no familiarity with were all present here and making business. None of the market goers paid the pair any mind and seemed to be content to carry out their business, despite the fact nervous humans were present.

Soon after this observation they were approached by a rather tall reptilian creature walking on its hind legs. The creature appeared intelligent and in no way outwardly aggressive, so Lance resisted his instinct to rest a hand on his dagger.

"Welcome to the Shadow Market boys," the reptile spoke in a heavy accent from a language that used many guttural noises in its syllables. Their S's also hissed as they spoke, which Lance had to resist laughing at for coming off as extremely stereotypical of a talking lizard.

"Hello, um-" Lance paused, not sure how to address this individual.

"Oh we don't exchange names here; you must be new. Unsurprising, typically the humans I meet at the corner are lost or on a dare. Are you boys either of those?"The lizard eyed them both individually and simultaneously, each eyeball able to move independently.

"No, actually, I'm looking for a medicine vendor; a doctor would be great as well."

"Hmm," the lizard paused as they raised a hand to scratch their chin in thought. "I'm uncertain of that, but you might find some luck at the other end of the alley."

The lizard offered what Lance assumed to be a grin of sorts. It was toothy and with the lack of lips it looked more like they were baring their fangs. The squint of their eyes assured him it was indeed supposed to be kind.

"Thank you. Come on then."He waved his hand to usher Thane in with him, whose face was pensive during the entire interaction.

As they passed through the crowds of people who varied in all manners of shapes and sizes, their presence had begun to draw attention. It wasn't as if they were the only humans here, on the contrary about half of the people in this back alley were human. They, however, were new and were unvetted by the regulars here. At least, that was the story he was going with.

At the end of the alley, there wasn't very much to be seen as it was mostly barren aside from filth and general refuse. One thing did stick out to him, and that happened to be an illuminated stall with a proprietor covered in a deep purple robe. This robe obscured any possible idenfiable features that Lance might been able to see otherwise. The only confirmation this person was a 'person' was the low iridescence of red eyes under their cowl. There also appeared to be legs hanging over their tall chair that kicked back and forth much in the same way a child would.

Lance approached and Thane did as well reluctantly. The red eyes looked up at him, but said nothing. A light from one of their many jars appeared to float out of its container and hover down closer to Lance's body. He was so taken by its ethereal glow that his entire body jolted when the purple figure slammed a staff they were holding in their hands onto the cobblestone causing the light to float back up to its container.

"You might want to back up sonny. The poes have taken a liking to you. I've only got them so well-trained; I can't promise what could happen if you get too close again," the voice beneath the cowl cackled with malicious glee. From the voice this person sounded like an old crone, but Lance still couldn't be certain and dared not assume.

He did just as they asked and took a couple generous steps back. "I noticed your stall was at the end here but I'm not certain I know what your wares are."

The figure chuckled again. "You've already met the poes I keep in my company, but they're not for sale. I'm a collector of them, you see. At my age one needs a hobby to occupy the time. If anything you could consider me a trader of intangible goods. Rumors, secrets, or perhaps even just handy knowledge. You boys look like you came here with something specific in mind," the figure crooned as the eyes squinted to indicate a smile.

"I don't trust this lady, Lance. We should get out of here," Thane whispered in his ear with a panicked voice. He pointedly ignored him.

"I'm looking for information about some rumors. Rumors related to a supposed all-powerful curative. Would you happen to know anything about it?"

"My information comes at a price, sonny. What will you offer me in exchange?"

"Name me your price, and you can bill it to my estate," he offered in turn with little confidence.

Their red eyes narrowed as the cowl shook from side to side. "No, no, not money you fool. I trade in information, can't you hear?"

"Well, how am I supposed to offer something of equal value if I don't know what kind of answer you're going to give me?" Lance retorted with frustration.

"Your ideas of equivalency don't align with mine. You're young; youngsters are full of rumors and secrets. Come, whisper into my ear the most tantalizing piece of knowledge you possess young man. I'll judge if it's a fair trade," they said with another chilling cackle.

"Lance, please, I'm begging you. Just leave and forget about her," Thane whispered so loudly into his ear that his voice sounded hoarse. Lance merely smiled and patted his kind friend on the shoulder, appreciating his worry but heeding none of the warning all the while.

He stepped forward, this time moving quickly past the reach of the contained poe, and leaned down to the side of the cowl to whisper.

The robed figure cackled, slamming their staff onto the cobblestone and wildly kicking their feet.

"Yes, yes! That is a fitting exchange sonny," they proclaimed with glee as Lance took his large steps back and narrowly escaped the wisp of the poe once more.

"The answer to your question is that yes, I do know of the toadstool said to cure all illness. It lies within the heart of the Forest of Many Names. It won't, however, heal your mother's affliction," they said with a deafening laugh. The staff slammed into the cobblestone again, and all at once the poes were released from their containers and now diving towards Lance.

Immediately Lance grabbed his friend by the arm sleeve and started dragging him away before they both broke into a full sprint. Their shouts of terror caused many of the passerby to shift to the sides of the alley to let them through. Strangely, those around the fleeing boys paid no mind to the poe souls soaring through the air.

Pushing and shoving through the crowd elicited many growls, grunts, and grumbles from the patrons of the alley. Eventually, the pair approached an immovable wall of bodies. No matter how much they tried to force their way the bodies wouldn't move. Looking behind them, Lance saw the spirits still flying quickly towards them. In this same glance he also noticed a side alley that didn't have anybody blocking the path.

"Come on, we have to run that way," he shouted as he pivoted on his heels and sprinted to the narrow opening that led into darkness. Not sparing a moment to look behind him to check on his friend, he could hear his footsteps keeping pace with him a couple of meters behind.

Rounding the corner at the end, they were greeted with a solid stone wall and no climbable surfaces in sight. The two were cornered.

Seeing was hardly possible in this dark crevice, but fortunately with his limited vision he could determine Thane's placement. Lance was a couple of steps ahead of him, a barely visible silver gleam was held in his hands before him. Knives wouldn't do anything to spirits, but he understood the other man's desire to fight until his last breath.

As Lance drew his own dagger, both boys could hear the sound of steps heading down the alley they were located in. The light that accompanied the poes was not present, but they wouldn't spare a sigh of relief until they were safely out of this situation.

It was still difficult to see, but Lance could determine that several humanoid shapes were rounding the corner. They were much larger than either Thane or himself. Lance could also pick up on an unsettling click of their feet as it met with the stone floor. This indicated they were not anything human.

All at once white teeth shone in the darkness as the creatures smiled to reveal their razor sharp fangs and mouths the size of their heads. One of the mouths laughed, but Lance could not determine who.

"You humans look awfully out of place here. Did you get separated from Mommy and Daddy?" One of the mouths sneered, and Lance heard a chorus of knuckles cracking as the bodies approached.

"If you want money, I can give you however much you want," Lance announced with a false bravado.

The group chuckled darkly. "Normally that would be the right answer, but not this time kid. You're the mayor's kid, huh? You might be too pampered to know this, but your daddy has made life even harder for us. Some of his incited flock decided to start persecuting my people," the voice in the front growled pointedly at Lance.

"I-" He was guilted into silence and couldn't begin to defend himself or even respond. Lance stood still as could be and uttered nary a single word.

The mouth in the front disappeared as his head turned, grunting an instruction he couldn't understand. Suddenly bodies stepped forward and grasped at Thane then they began to drag him away.

Thane cried out in fear and began swinging his blade at the offending hands. He may have sliced a few, but in the end it didn't matter as the sound of metal striking stone reverberated in the alleyway. The sounds of struggle persisted for a few moments more until Thane's knees landed on the floor.

Crack.

One of the monsters, after forcing Thane to kneel, yanked his arm out straight and fractured the elbow with a swift strike by his hand. Thane screamed in agony, and then it went eerily silent.

Lance persisted to be frozen in place, unable to act to defend his friend or even to try to run away. He felt the full brunt of acknowledging his cowardice all in this moment, probably one of the last moments he would experience in his life.

The large figure that addressed him turned back to face him, a fact he only knew still by the return of the bright smile.

"Now that he's taken care of, back to whom I'm really interested in," the voice spoke with glee.

He walked over, and Lance still was unable to move. This appeared to bore the creature, whose smile turned downwards into a frown. Otherwise, he offered no indication of displeasure.

Quicker than he could react to on a good day, a large hand was grasped around his throat and lifted him up slowly off the ground. Lance tried to hold his breath to prevent having it all wrenched out of him immediately

"Your people killed my children. Innocent children. My youngest couldn't even speak yet," the figure muttered dismally. "It's only fitting I kill the child of the one who was responsible."

With his face so close Lance was able to identify his attacker was undoubtedly inhuman. The monster's eyes were grotesquely yellow, and his nose was that of a hog. Gasps were slipping from Lance's lungs, despite his best efforts.

"I think I'll traipse your body in front of city hall as a message to all of your politicians. As much as I would love tearing you apart, I'll have to at least leave your body mostly intact," he added with amusement. "I'll have fun tearing you down slowly all the while, little human."

Perhaps it was a final act of desperation; maybe Lance finally found the will to resist. There stood a good chance it was just pure oxygen deprivation that caused him to lose all of his innate fears. No matter what it was, Lance had found his resolve at this very moment. He raised the hand clasping the dagger and stabbed it deeply into the arm of the bestial man holding him aloft.

The creature groaned in pain, but otherwise his grip didn't let up. His eyes squinted in fury and the hand holding Lance reeled back before throwing him as hard as could be.

Crack.

Lance's head collided with the stone wall, and he was gone in an instant.

* * *

It was early morning and the sun had yet to rise over Clock Town. Lance sprang forward out of his slumber covered in a sheen of sweat. The back of his head was in pure agony, and out of instinct his hand reached back to touch the center of the pain. When his hand pulled back, he fully expected it to be covered in blood. That was not the case, however, nor did he feel a wound there.

He began taking shallow, rapid inhalations as a panic overtook him. His body was jumping out of bed before he could fully grasp what he was doing and began finding yesterday's day clothes to get dressed.

Before anyone else in the house was stirring, not even the servants, Lance was sprinting down the staircase while donning his coat and scarf. Grabbing his satchel, something he could remember himself explicitly doing the day prior, he scrambled out the door and over to the stables.

Lance felt a brief stir of guilt as he awakened his horse who was sleeping peacefully in a pile of fresh straw and covered with a quilted blanket. The beast could feel his rider's distress as Lance beckoned him and allowed himself to be geared up without much protest. A handful of oats also helped in sweetening the deal.

As the first stream of sunlight began tearing through the fog of night Lance was already galloping out of town passing by dozing night guards. He was not fully conscious of where he was going, all he knew was that he couldn't be here anymore. Friends died because of him, he couldn't be a risk to them. There was no denying any longer that those were dreams, these deaths were a reality.

It was no surprise to him when his mind focused back on the task at hand that he was galloping right for the Southern Swamp.


	4. Into The Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 8/27/20- Edited for improved readability

In the wee morning hours of Termina's southern province the diurnal creatures were beginning to stir from their slumber. Those who lurked in the darkness were beginning to bed down with bellies full of unfortunate prey that were hunted under the veil of night. It was the natural order of things, by design from the powers that be who breathed life into this husk of earth.

What was not appreciated by any of the native wildlife was the galloping horse barreling through the grasslands and sending all the prey animals into a panic. The flock of guays were startled by the disturbance and dived as a group into the horse and the human riding astride the beast. Lance did everything within his power to wave off the pesky creatures, but he was unable to avoid a few pecking him all over. Fortunately, for his horse's sake, they understood the primary cause of the disturbance was him and paid the steed no mind.

Eventually, after many agonizing seconds of the assault, the birds let up and he had arrived at the swamp's edge. This time (or this reality) he wasn't sure how to think of his dream experiences. He was not in as much of a hurry and more apt to take in the scenery of the strange land. Over the water, there appeared to be an old, dilapidated building held aloft by support beams. Underneath it was a rickety looking boat that surprisingly appeared to still be floating perfectly fine in the murky gray water. It was covered in foliage, but otherwise in modest condition.

He had heard many years ago there used to be a business operated out of the swamp for people to take scenic boat tours. It was popular for both family excursions and dates with the people of Clock Town. It looked like without visitors from human civilizations the business dried up and the property was abandoned.

This was not his objective, so he quickly moved on and it was put out of mind. Lance guided his horse through a thicker portion of grass before the proper beginning of the woods. He wound up at a large pool surrounding a great tree larger than all the rest around it. He knew from hearsay that this great tree was the home of a couple of witches who lived here longer than time itself they would say. Given his experiences recently he was now more ready to believe in superstitious nonsense like that, but a younger Lance would have scoffed at the idea.

Taking notice of a ladder at the button of the tree and a sign that read "M-ic -gs' -oti- S-", Lance concluded this was a shop of some kind. At least historically, given its rundown condition. Hopefully, they wouldn't be bothered by his sudden visit. At this point he felt like he didn't have a lot to lose when it came to testing his boundaries in the world.

After a swift trip up the ladder, along with almost falling due to a few broken rungs, Lance was atop the rickety platform. He stood in front of a thin fabric hanging over a door frame; supposing this substituted as a door he then knocked on the wood of the door frame.

Knock, knock, knock.

He waited patiently for approximately thirty seconds before trying the same knock once more. Again he was met with silence. An answer like that would not do, and he was pushed to the limits of what he would be polite about. Lance threw open the sheet covering the door and entered the dimly lit interior.

There was a faint unnatural illumination coming from random spots around the room. Red and blue were the predominant colors, but he noticed other vibrant colors of the rainbow as well. With each footstep he took the floor creaked loudly causing him to grind his teeth in fear each time.

"Wee hee hee hee!"

Lance heard a laugh similar to one he believed to have heard previously but couldn't recall it. He assumed it must be a false memory from his dreams, among many others he kept mistaking for his current reality.

Quickly he turned around but no indication of life was to be heard. Then the laugh happened again, but this time directly behind him! He spun around in circles a handful of times before being held rigidly in place against his will. Lance could not feel anything touching his body but there was a distinct sense that something powerful was holding each part of his body in place. His jaw was not even capable of moving to form words; the only sounds he could muster were howls of fear.

Abruptly his body was spun around to face the door from which he came. A noise of wood sliding across wood sounded behind him then he was pulled into a sitting position atop a mysteriously produced chair. Forced into holding his eyes open and incapable of blinking, he saw two pairs of eyes accompanied by more bright lights of red and blue. His howls of fear increased.

"Wee hee hee hee, look Kotake, a little human boy has sneaked into our home," crowed the eyes attached to the red light.

"Hee hee! I see it is so, Koume," answered back the blue light.

Lance's panicked eyes flickered back and forth between the two, uncertain between them who he should direct most of his fear towards.

"Hmm, I think we gave him a good scare, Koume. Shall we at least hear what the boy has to say?" inquired the voice he assumed belonged to Kotake.

A green gnarled hand appeared from the darkness and began to perform a complex number of gestures that Lance could hardly interpret. The one he believed to be Koume began chanting in an unfamiliar language.

Lance then took a large gulp of air so hard and aggressively his lungs began to burn from the rapid expansion. Over the course of several seconds Lance managed to normalize his breathing and blink until his eyes stopped stinging with tears.

"Speak, boy. Why did you intrude on our home?" As she asked this Koume and Kotake floated into the glow of the dim light to reveal themselves as two small green human-like creatures hovering on broomsticks. Koume's hair was alight in a blaze of fire, and Kotake's hair was a solid block of freezing ice.

He took a few more ragged breaths before answering. "You're the swamp witches, aren't you? You used to be friends of the humans, right? I only wanted to ask for your help, that's all," Lance explained with a hoarse voice. What he said was mostly true, though in reality he wasn't even sure anyone was still living here. He just hoped to be able to find any abandoned resources that could aid his search.

"You're awfully young to remember anything like that. Humans were our friends many decades ago, but as of late they grew fearful of us and stopped trusting us," Kotake admitted calmly. She appeared to be the more level-headed of the pair, a fact Lance would lean into.

"Business dried up, humans stopped coming to visit the swamp, and they stopped buying our potions. Our only dealings now are with the deku and those who live in the woods," Koume added bitterly.

"Wait, you make potions? Are they curatives by chance?" Lance heard the only words he needed and disregarded anything else she might have said.

"You think of us witches as friends of humans but don't even know that much?" Koume said through gritted teeth causing Lance to shrink back in embarrassment. The red witch sighed.

"We brewed remedies to heal injuries and bolster strength. Many people appreciated our works for several years, then suddenly humans were convinced our concoctions were poisoning people. It's completely preposterous! I-"

She was interrupted by a wide-eyed Lance. "Can your potions cure illnesses?" he asked in exasperation.

The two witches looked at each other with uncertainty before the blue one turned back to face him. "Generally an illness cannot be cured. We can alleviate symptoms to help give the body a fighting chance at overcoming it, but something fatal is out of the realm of mortal possibility," she explained in a sympathetic manner.

Lance sunk his head back down to his chest. Had he been unparalyzed his entire body would have slumped in complete disappointment.

"There are rumors of an ingredient that could cure all illnesses just behind us in the Woods of Mystery, but it's not something my sister nor myself have ever found," Koume said with a snort of derision. "It doesn't exist, and not something foolish children should be searching for."

"You don't understand, I-," he hesitated to speak. "My mother she's- she's all I have. Without her nobody else in this world loves me just as much as I love them. She can't die." As Lance poured his heart out his face began to stream with fluids from his eyes and nose. His face turned puffy red as he started sobbing.

Koume rolled her eyes and waved her hands once more. The magical binds that held his body in place were gone, but the weight of his anguish held him firmly in place all the same.

"Get out. Go home, boy. If you loved your mother, you would be with her and not throwing your life away on a fool's errand," Koume ordered as she floated past him to somewhere behind him that he could not see. Kotake floated forward as well, but stopped next to his ear before whispering to him.

"There is a person who has lived for many years in the woods. His name is Bael, and if anybody would have any information on what you're looking for it would be him."

Lance looked up at her with his face drenched. Her mouth twisted in sympathy as she reached for a handkerchief in her pocket to hand over to him. He accepted it graciously and furiously wiped it over his face while silently berating himself for having a breakdown in front of these people.

"You can tell the deku that guard the woods you're running an errand for the hag sisters, they won't put up much of a fuss then," she said with a smile.

"Thank you, Ms. Kotake," when he formally addressed her she gave a small cackle.

"I haven't heard a human speak to me so kindly in a long time. You didn't fear us for what we are, I wish to help you in return as gratitude."

"How do I find this 'Bael' person? What does he look like and how can I get him to help me?"

Kotake pursed her lips as she paused in thought. "Well I've not seen him in a while so let me think. He had very long white hair and pale skin, making it very clear he rarely made a trip to where the sun shines. Oh, and he's almost always in the company of some fairies." She nodded as she finished assuring him, and possibly herself, she was accurate.

"Fairies? Well, I definitely won't mistake anyone else for him with a description like that," Lance murmured as he thought to himself why this Bael person sounded familiar.

"Bael's as stubborn as a jackass if he's decided he doesn't want to do something, or if he considers you a trespasser. Even my sister and I had had run-ins with him before we both grew to tolerate each other's presence. However, if it's for the good of the woods or those that live in it, he can be easily persuaded."

He had no idea how he could spin his admittedly selfish request to be of benefit for the world, but Lance nodded accepting the advice all the same. Standing up out of the chair finally he passed the soaked handkerchief back to Kotake with a sheepish grin. Instead of lifting it with her own hand he felt it be magically tugged out of his grasp before it disappeared with a wave of her hand.

"Good luck, boy," Kotake waved as he strode to the door and began his descent down from the tree.

* * *

By giving the pair of deku guards his message from Kotake they merely nodded with doubtful eyes but made no gestures that they would stop him. After watching them burrow back down into their flowers, Lance hopped down off of his horse and reached for its head to rest his forehead against its nose.

"I'll be leaving you here, friend. It wouldn't be fair if I caused your demise in these woods once again," Lance said gloomily. The horse did not understand him of course, but when he peered deeply into its shimmering eyes he was convinced he could see a spark of comprehension.

After parting with a soft kiss to the beast's nose, Lance turned around and marched into the Woods of Mystery. He was alone this time, but with knowledge of the last few "days" in mind his loneliness did not make him fearful. Lance was taking control of his life and no longer roping his innocent companions into the dire situations he led them to. The sight and sounds of his dead friends repeatedly played within his mind whenever he had a moment to spare the thought. It was as if he was watching a stage re-enactment of the events and was the only member of the audience; it was a show that never ended and never allowed him to leave.

Suddenly without noticing the transition, his vision became darker as if it were late afternoon and not at all the mid-morning that it really was. The densely packed trees blotted out the majority of the light that would reach the forest floor causing the area to be incredibly dark and eerily cold.

Though he believed to be walking in a straight line, between the darkness and the lack of distinct features his path ahead and behind looked entirely identical. Lance did not allow this to discourage him and continued pushing forward.

After several minutes (or maybe several hours) Lance began approaching something that wasn't just a dense mass of trees and bushes. It appeared to be a large and lumpy shape no bigger than a horse but lacking in any recognizable features. The shape appeared to be constantly moving whether it be the entire mass itself or the darkness contained inside it. As Lance began to step closer lacking a normal level of caution the mass started to fiercely shake and rotate in place.

A pair of misaligned eyes and a poorly shaped mouth appeared on what he took for a face. These features were barely noticeable in the expanse of darkness save for the light shimmering that appeared within them. Two large appendages appeared at the side of it, lifting and over the central portion of the shadow. The twinkling mouth stood agape.

"Goooooo awaaaaay," the shadow moaned as it propelled itself towards him.

Lance was prepared however, and immediately reached for the dagger within his satchel and unsheathed it in a flash. The glimmering silver blade was pointed directly at the dark beast who immediately recoiled back in fear.

He stared the foul creature down over the sharpened edge of the knife as it continued propelling itself backwards uttering disgusting groans. Lance's steps forward fell in time with the beast's movement, not permitting it to escape for even a second.

"N-n-noooooooooo," the frightful creature howled as its entire form began to shake and lose what little semblance of identifiable shape that it had. The dark color of the being also proceeded to fade as tears began to form that produced a bright white light shining from within the shadow.

Without fully being aware of his movements, Lance lunged forward with the knife as he closed his eyes unwilling to witness the contact. His blade pressed against something firmly solid, unable to pierce it. As he lost his ability to maintain this level of courage, his arms shook causing the knife to drop from his hands. It hit the forest floor with a thump.

Lance's eyes peeled open to a bewildering sight. To his immediate attention was the now beaming shape abruptly losing cohesion as it diffused into dozens of smaller orbs of multicolored lights. This all was a backdrop however to the figure defensively poised right before him. A human with a feral expression had parried his strike with a roughly carved wooden spear. Their white hair hung in disarray around their face and their lips were upturned in a small snarl.

As this white-haired person began to adjust their posture into a more upright position, stomping their foot on the knife, the orbs of light appeared to scatter in a multitude of directions until there was only one lilac colored orb hanging near Lance's attacker.

Lance backed up slowly with palms splayed in front of him in an admittedly poor attempt to alleviate his predicament. His heel hooked on a root behind him causing him to tumble backwards. The stranger flipped the spear around to aim it at his throat as he stood over him. From this position he found the white-haired figure to be strikingly familiar and started to recall the appearance of the person in his dream.

"You're Bael, right?" Lance was eventually able to blurt out a question nervously all the while his eyes never left the weapon.

"I don't really believe you're in the position to be asking questions," he retorted. Surprising to Lance, this person's voice was very masculine. It went against this perception in his head he had created of a mysterious forest being who was entirely inhuman. As it stood now, he just appeared to be a man living in the woods away from people.

"Kotake told me there was a man who lived in the woods with white hair and kept the company of fairies. That has to be you, right?"

"I don't know what those old hags told you, but humans aren't allowed here. Leave," Bael commanded as he roughly nudged the side of the spear on Lance's cheek.

"Listen, I just came to ask if you knew about these toadstools that are said to cu-" Lance was cut off with a sharp jab.

"Leave. Now." Bael emphasized each time with a prod from the spear at the base of Lance's throat. The sharpened stone used for the head was jagged and razor thin; the movements caused cuts to open on his skin.

"I'll leave, okay? I just want to say one more thing. Are you aware someone wants to burn these woods down?" Lance threw out the question as more of a bluff than anything. All he knew was Bael was protective of this place and that in his very real dream the woods were on fire. Events from his dream were in the future, that much he could tell, since in them his friends would die but now they were alive. At the very least, he hoped Thane was alive now.

The spear was pulled back to Bael's side as he looked at Lance with an inquisitive expression. He was expecting to be shouted at or threatened more, but instead he was matching Bael with a puzzled look of his own.

Bael turned his head to the side where the orb floated, Lance only just now noticing the delicate transparent wings fluttering to hold it aloft in the air. He whispered to the creature in a voice so low Lance couldn't detect any of the words he was saying nor the intention behind them. Then Bael turned back to look at him with a determined face.

"You remember the lost time, don't you?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been excited for this chapter because finally the other listed main character has officially appeared! Again, thank you very much to my readers keeping up with this story and hope to have another chapter for you next week :)


	5. Revelations of the Unkind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 10/2/20- Edited for improved readability

Ever since he was young and coming to understand the world was an unjust place, Lance had been a planner. He did his best to anticipate most engagements with other people and create step-by-step mental guides on how to go about his usual day.

Was it exhausting? Absolutely.

Did it ease some of his daily anxiety about just existing in this world? Marginally. The trade-off was not equivalent, but fears aren’t abated so simply.

How was that relevant? Well, Lance had a million mental ideations on how today might go (consistently updated with all new information and minor upsets) but under no circumstances did they go quite like this.

None of them featured an incomprehensible man who lived in the woods where people go to never appear again looking at him like that. Bael had extended his left arm down to him with a wry smile hiding layers of mischief and calculation. He accepted the gesture with a grunt as Bael hoisted him up with startling ease.

With them both finally meeting while standing at maximum height, Lance was surprised how much larger he was than Bael. In height and body mass, he was coming ahead. Yet he was the one who felt frightened by the magnitude of the other man's innate presence.

The lilac fairy fluttered up into his face, distracting Lance from his observations and causing his head to jerk upwards. The orb was startlingly close to his eyes, so much so he could see faint lines of a silhouette within the light that resembled a small human. His eyes twinkled at this mystical sight.

“I don’t know B; he looks a little too...dumb to be aware,” the fairy piped up with an airy feminine voice. Lance just blinked, not certain what you should do when a supernatural creature calls you stupid without provocation.

Bael clicked his tongue as he handled the end of his spear to nudge Lance into twisting his body around. He obliged, but felt extremely self-conscious about the whole experience.

“Looks like you weren’t hurt in your little tumble. I should probably apologize for that. It was for your own good, had the circumstances been different.”

Lance merely shook his head, though he couldn’t say why he wanted to disagree with him. Was it a fascination with this person? He wanted to understand who he was and why it seemed like he knew more about Lance’s experiences than he did.

“I- well- can you explain any of this stuff you’re talking about?” Lance finally requested even as Bael had turned around with a beckoning wave to follow behind him.

“I can,” Bael answered. There was then an extended silence between them.

“Um, will you explain it then?”

“Shh,” Bael hushed him sharply while pressing his index finger to his mouth.

Lance clamped up immediately and contented himself with doggedly following along without uttering a peep.

* * *

Hours passed (Or was it days?) and Lance couldn’t make heads or tails of where he was being led to. He began to panic that his willingness to follow a perfect stranger deeper into a dark forest might not have been his most brilliant decision.

_“Oh what if he’s going to eat me? I don’t know that he wasn’t involved with that “thing” that tried to kill me. There’s no way I can overpower him in a fight he’ll kick my ass. Maybe if I…?”_

He furiously shook his head as his cheeks turned rosy red at the indecent thought that came to mind. That was not happening, he would rather just be killed and eaten. The alternative would just make him die of embarrassment.

All of sudden Bael stopped in place and the very distracted Lance was caught unawares. Like colliding with a rock wall he was bounced backwards when his chest collided with Bael’s back. He let out an undignified yelp and jumped back in surprise. Luckily for his self-conscious the shorter man paid him no heed.

What Lance saw next he’s not quite sure he could ever properly explain if he lived to tell this story to anyone. Bael lifted his spear and held it aloft pointing forward and felt around the empty air with the sharp tip. He watched in fascination at whatever ritual he was performing until it looked like his spear snagged on the air. The air was torn, revealing a shimmering light that lay hidden in between the layers of reality.

Slicing through the air like fabric, Bael tore this hole open large enough to match himself in height. Pulling the spear away he used his slender and dexterous fingers to peel open the two sides of the tear. After doing so Lance could catch a glimpse of what looked to be a forest settlement beyond the sparkling mist that rolled out of the opening.

Bael glanced back, head tilting up to look at Lance’s face then down to his feet. “You’re a tall fellow; I can’t quite make it bigger than this. Watch your head,” he said with a soft whisper and eyes reflecting the dancing lights of the portal.

Lance stood perfectly still until he noticed that it seemed like Bael wanted him to step in first. His worrisome self said this was a terrible idea, but his curious side was ready to take the leap into the unknown. Stepping forward he ducked his head and felt his body slip into the rip of reality while coming undone in the process.

For the briefest of moments his corporeal form lost its defined shape and his soul was slipping between the world he knew and into this one. As soon as it began it was over resulting in Lance staring at an awesome sight.

The structures of this village were simple with very small homes made of nothing more than what the forest would provide. Fairies floated in and around the space without a care in the world, some chasing each other in play while others allowed themselves to be carried by the gentle breeze. The woods beyond the tear were illuminated with an otherworldly light that radiated down from the crowns of the trees creating a picturesque image that Lance couldn’t help but stare at.

Soon the other two joined him in this space, and Bael immediately sealed the opening shut in a manner he couldn’t begin to comprehend. Bael walked past him, offering a look that beckoned him to follow along. Lance obliged without sparing a moment for doubt or fear. He was completely enchanted.

They took a short jaunt through this quaint settlement which allowed Lance plenty of time to “ooh” and “ahh” as his head turned from side to side taking it all in. Fairies weren’t the only inhabitants here as far as he could tell as he caught glimpses of imps with flesh the color of night. It appeared Bael was leading him to one of the small buildings here, pulling open the drapery that acted as a door. He turned back to look at Lance expectantly which caused his feet to lock into place.

“Just go you stupid human,” the little fairy flew up to his head and smashed its small body into the side of his face. He didn’t feel particularly threatened by this small creature, fairies were never known back home to be something feared. What was always feared was the wrath of their masters, usually a Great Fairy. In the case of these wild forest fairies, Lance got the sense that Bael was kind of the master here and he was most definitely frightened by him.

He stepped into the modest home filled with simple wooden furnishings. A corner for eating at a table, a hearth in the center of the room, and at the back was a small bed and assorted possessions on the floor. Many of them resembled wooden carvings of animals, and in a way it reminded Lance of the bedroom of a child.

“Sit,” Bael ordered with a finger pointed to the single chair at the table while he walked over to the back area leaving the spear next to his bed. Lance anxiously obliged.

Bael came back and took a seat at the hearth beginning to stoke a fire in the center. It was eerily silent in the room as Lance waited to know what was going on. The fairy continued floating near him as if it was asserting that Lance could not dare leave with it standing in the way.

“Do you remember the night you and your pack came here to the woods? And what happened to you?” Bael asked in such a gentle manner, as if he were just inquiring about the weather today and not at all life changing questions.

“I don’t remember a lot,” Lance admitted sheepishly. “I remember this...shadowy creature crouching on my chest. Then I remember you. After that I- I died,” he finished with a lump in his throat.

Bael just nodded in a knowing way. “That’s about as much as I would expect you to remember. You didn’t actually die then, that night. It’s not an experience any living being should understand so you don’t know what happened, but you were hurled back in time.”

Lance’s jaw dropped into an expression of stupor. This entire time he had the sense that this was what was happening, but to just have it confirmed by this person so simply like Bael was just explaining a grade school concept was too much. He never turned back to look at Lance, only sat in silence as the weight of everything settled in.

“It’s actually happened twice, this shift in time. I’m unaware of what happened the second time, I’m actually hoping that’s something you can fill in for me,” he said as he then turned back to meet Lance’s face with his determined one. This meant he wanted that explanation now.

“I woke up today from another dream of dying. I was assaulted by monsters in the shadow market.” It felt weird to describe these horrific experiences so plainly, but since they manifested to him like dreams there was a certain amount of disconnect from these events.

“So I was right then. You are the catalyst for what’s going on,” Bael spoke to himself with distant eyes.

“You haven’t explained to me yet why you remember all of this so vividly,” Lance chimed, openly expressing his annoyance.

Bael looked up at him in great irritation, prickling at his tone. “I’m sure you look at me and assume I’m a human, just like you. I’m not, so don’t compare our capabilities,” Bael said with strong emphasis on the second part.

Lance’s brows furrowed. Clearly he could tell Bael wasn’t a normal person; he wasn’t that stupid. “I’ve not met any deku, gorons, or zora that know what’s going on either. So that explanation is flimsy,” he declared finally. No need to mention he hadn't asked any.

Bael huffed a short laugh. “What I mean is I’m not mortal like you; like those races are. The fairies are very strongly attuned to the world at large, and we notice what is happening regardless.”

“So you’re just a really big fairy? That can’t fly?” Lance was having a hard time believing any of this because this was unlike anything he had heard of in his life. Fairies were also known to be primarily female, so to see this person who was a healthy mix of masculine and androgyny claim to be one was just too far fetched.

“I don’t owe you an explanation,” Bael gritted through his teeth. Lance’s eyes widened, worrying he was tip-toeing closer to a third death.

“Why am I here, exactly?” Lance asked finally in an attempt to break the silence growing between them and change the subject.

Bael snorted again, but allowed himself to calm down once more. “If you can’t tell already, you’re the catalyst for this. Your dying winds back the hands of time. You’ve also died twice in the span of three days, don’t you find that odd?”

“I mean, when you put it like that it does,” Lance admitted with a tinge of embarrassment.

“Clearly as one who is aware of what’s happening and capable of preventing it, I need to keep an eye on you. I wasn’t sure if you were aware before; you actually caught me on my way to Clock Town to see if you remembered me. I appreciate you saving me the trip.”

“So what? You want me to just stay here with you now? Until when?” Lance asked, indignant and bristling at the idea.

“Of course not, I have to figure out why this is happening. I can’t be your babysitter for the rest of time,” Bael scoffed.

Lance found this man increasingly annoying to deal with.

“What religion do the people in Clock Town practice?” Bael asked him out of the blue. This was so out of place to him that Lance paused to process what was said in case he misunderstood.

“We don’t really have a proper religion I guess? I know in Ikana there are remnants of ancient churches kept up for historical purposes, but the religion was lost to time. The Giants are guardians we acknowledge, but I wouldn’t say anyone worships them. Why?”

“So the old gods are just as forgotten as I imagined them to be. Right, well, I ask because it’s related to what’s happening. I think,” Bael said.

Lance paused, waiting for him to continue. Bael looked at him expecting him to say something else, but gave up and just continued.

“Before the Giants, when the Ikana Kingdom existed, there was a pantheon of gods that were worshiped. They were not benevolent protectors like the Giants, who stepped in after the fact to protect Termina. No, these were, dare I say, evil gods,” Bael explained.

“That’s just a myth, isn’t it? We know the Giants are real, but no one has ever seen another being at the level of a deity,” Lance questioned growing uncertain in what he knew.

“Generally most followers never get physical proof of the things they worshiped and this was no different. I, however, can confirm they do exist because I have met one.”

Lance looked at Bael like he had just sprouted a second head, which honestly is something else he wouldn’t be surprised he could do. Bael smirked knowingly, getting pleasure from shocking him in this way.

“Yeah, there’s a reason the Woods of Mystery, Lost Woods, Forest of Many Names, whatever you want to call it, has the capability to keep you trapped here forever. It’s where things are kept that cannot just simply die. I’ve met one of these ‘lost ones’.”

A chill ran up Lance’s spine at the explanation. An instinctive response in his brain said that this was all just a crock of lies and Bael just got a thrill out of toying with people before devouring them. However, something about the name ‘lost one’ struck a chord in his mind that he couldn’t ignore.

“Was that shadow from the night I-,” he paused, unable to describe it in any more detail. “Was that a ‘lost one’?”

“It was.”

Unfortunately, Bael didn’t seem keen to expand anymore on the subject, and Lance did not dare to push it for fear of his retaliation.

“What is it you’re going to do then?” Lance finally asked not knowing where else to go in this conversation that went almost entirely over his head.

"We're going to be paying visits to the places where the old gods used to be enshrined. Their corpses have been defiled before, so I'm told, so they must still be there," Bael announced before standing. "You're coming with me because if something happens to you I'm back at square one and I do loathe repeating myself."

“Ah.”

So Lance was dead weight to him it seemed, and not at all here to be helpful to this cause. On the one hand he did not want this to be his responsibility; he already felt like he was way too involved in this as it is. Another part of him despised being seen as useless, tired of being a backseat passenger to all the events of his life.

Striding over with confident ease, Bael grabbed Lance's arm and pulled him upright with a smirk. Lance, while fairly strong, felt like a rag doll in his grasp. Resistance was swiftly determined as futile. The fairy floated back over to Bael, finding no more need to watch Lance closely.

“Given your people are more isolationist than ever you’ve probably never ventured much farther south than this, hm?” Bael asked. “I’m going to start by investigating the ruins of Woodfall.”

Lance allowed himself to be led despite the smoldering knot of disdain billowing in his core. He was no longer keen to actively participate in this arrangement. The only thing he wanted was to help his mother; he wasn't going to become invested in the rest of these matters.

As Bael led him outside his home, Lance attempted to reclaim his wrist from Bael's firm grip. The other man didn’t even so much as look at him before roughly tugging him forward again. Bael appeared to have no interest in acknowledging his protests.

Just as he was about to open his mouth in complaint, a bone-chilling howl reverberated through the air slicing right through his very being. All that lived here also paused in response to this disturbance before returning to normal and ignoring what had just transpired. Lance gasped in shock, and just as quickly as it happened silence resumed.

Bael ignored the sound. He didn’t turn around to face its direction or slack in leading the way. Lance might have mistaken it, but it felt like the muscles of Bael’s hand tightened on his arm. It seemed wiser to wait until they were out of this suffocating forest before speaking up again.

* * *

They left the hidden village and wandered through the forest once more. This trip only took an hour in comparison to the many Lance assumed it took to arrive there. Lance chalked it up to just part of the experience with the Woods of Mystery.

Once they appeared from the dense trees, the sight of Lance’s horse was the first thing they noticed. When the beast spotted its master the animal began to walk over nickering pleasantly.

Bael dropped his arm and walked over to the horse with a childlike gleam in his eyes. He gently extended his hand out to its nose letting the creature become familiar with his scent.

Lance couldn’t help but grin in amusement at Bael’s excitement to see the horse. Horses were extremely common in human societies, but he supposed it wouldn’t be something common to see when living your entire life in a forest.

“He’s not shy, you know. He’s a city animal, so he’s been used to strangers since he was a colt,” Lance explained, stepping over to pat the animal on the neck.

“What’s his name?” Bael asked while letting his hands dive into the thick hair of the mane. His eyes lit up at the sensation.

“Ah, well,” Lance coughed to clear his throat nervously. “He doesn’t have one. I’m bad at names, and since he’s mine he never got a name.”

Bael looked at Lance as if he had just punched him in the gut and brought him great offense. “What is even the point of belonging to a human if you can’t even be loved enough to receive a name?” He raised his voice as he stepped around the animal to get in Lance’s face.

Lance held up his own hands with palms splayed and backed up slightly. He really didn’t know how to handle Bael’s strong reactive emotions that changed by the minute. Bael gave up on scolding Lance and turned back to the horse instead.

“I’ll give you a name then. You’re a beautiful dark red bay and your eyes shine with understanding. You’ve put up with an ungrateful master for many years, but you love him anyway, that much I can tell. A powerful name would suit you.”

While Bael spoke to the horse in loving tones Lance couldn’t help the twinge of jealousy that made itself home at the base of his throat. It was irrational; he knew that. But he had just sat through this man making him feel useless and like a burden, then turned around to talk to his horse with only kind words.

“Oberon. Oberon shall be your name,” Bael said with an accomplished smile, nuzzling his nose against the horse’s snout.

“Any complaints, master?” he added sarcastically, eyes beaming overconfidence.

Lance’s nostrils flared and the corners of his mouth turned down into a frown. “It’s fine, I guess.” With no valid complaints he just remained in dejected silence. He wouldn’t dare admit he thought it was actually a good name.

The feelings of ire came sharp and hot. Roiling in his stomach he felt some of the most intense heated emotions he ever felt in his young life. His fists curled at his side until his fingernails dug into his flesh threatening to draw blood.

Lance began to despise this man.


	6. Sacrifice

In a motion that surprised Lance, Bael stepped around to the side of the horse before clumsily clambering on top and settling himself right behind the saddle on Oberon’s hindquarters. The fairy fluttered up to the top of the animal’s head before settling down right between the ears. Both of them looked down expectantly at Lance.

“Are you waiting for an invitation?” The tiny feminine voice of the fairy piped up in an annoyed tone.

Lance fumed but continued to hold his tongue. “What are you doing? I don’t know where we’re going,” he retorted.

It was hard to catch but Lance could swear the look he just caught from Bael was a flustered one. “I don’t know how to steer a horse, that’s your job. This wasn’t in my plans, but it’s convenient and quicker.

He wordlessly moved to mount Oberon while seamlessly lifting himself into the saddle and swinging his leg over the other side. Lance could feel Bael twisting around to press his back against his own while letting out an irritated huff.  
  
“Riding a horse isn’t difficult, you know.” Lance spoke as he spurred the horse to begin moving. The fairy had started flying off into a direction that led deeper into the swamp so he understood that to be his cue to start moving. “I can’t imagine how much more difficult life would be if I didn’t know how.”

“What good would it serve me? Navigating the woods on foot is faster.”

“Well surely sometimes you have to leave, right? There’s just things you need sometimes you can’t forage for yourself,” Lance responded trying to make pleasant conversation.

He could feel Bael’s head shake against his back. Lance would love nothing more than to cause Oberon to rear back and make the other man tumble off. If there was one thing he detested it was overly familiar contact from someone he barely knew. All of these emotions were exacerbated but how irritating the other was.

“I only leave maybe once or twice a year. It’s fun going to Clock Town for the carnival,” Bael replied in a distant voice.

“You attend the carnival?” That was certainly not what Lance expected to hear.

“Hm? I do. People wear masks which makes it easier for me to attend unquestioned.”

It definitely explained why Lance never remembered seeing or hearing about such a distinctive looking person visiting Clock Town. Oberon turned around a bend that took them even deeper into the swamp. The water along the path became murkier and signs of life hiding with the depth were obscured from sight. The woods behind them were entirely out of sight now.

“I’ve seen you before,” Bael announced to break the silence that had formed.

“W-what?” Lance jolted upright causing Oberon to shuffle in place. It took over a minute to calm his steed back down before realigning them on the fairy-led path.

“You used to be that dorky kid who played the hero in that play. Oh what was it called, _Death of a Hero_?” Bael continued his earlier topic despite Lance having desperately wished he wouldn’t bring it up.

“ _Three Days to Die_ is the name of it,” he answered bluntly.  
  
“Right! Right, yeah, yeah that’s it. Oh man, I remember when they changed actors for the hero seven years ago and out walked this scrawny little boy. Him, a hero!” Bael managed to talk himself into a great laughing fit. The rumbling from the heaves of his chest reverberated against Lance’s back and it took everything in his body to not just push him off the horse right then and there.

“Are you quite finished?” Lance asked amidst the boisterous laughter.

“Then in the act during the moon set when challenging Majora he _squeaked_ the line,” Bael stopped to wipe a tear from his eye. “I banish you from this world, fell _beast_ ,” Bael heavily exaggerated the crack in his voice.

“I don’t know what they expected when casting a boy in the throes of puberty. Makeup covering his pimpled face and a costume much too small for his slight stature,” Bael finished as he regained composure.

“Are you done? Had your laugh at my expense? Glad someone is able to have a good time amidst all this,” Lance snarled as he flicked the reins to urge Oberon to pick up the pace. This caused Bael to pull up his feet to support himself better on the horse. His hands reached backwards and grasped Lance by the fabric along his waist.

“However when I came back the years after that I could really see the improvement. You aged quickly after that. Your voice became deeper, the likes of which could genuinely sound threatening. The clothes of the hero finally began to fit you.” Bael smiled wistfully as he recalled the memory.

“Let me guess, as one of the fairies you were born into this world with eternal beauty and youth; never knowing the pains of human maturation,” Lance replied, still tense.

“See now, you’re smarter than you look,” Bael said with a teasing voice. “I suppose in a roundabout way I just wanted to tell you that I look forward to seeing you in this year’s play. You’re doing a better job now than the actor before you did.”

“I think you need lessons in complimenting people. You’re wretched at it,” Lance replied allowing himself to crack a small smile in response.

Before Bael could reply the fairy flew back to them in a hurry. “Bael! We’re approaching the palace,” she cried next to their ears.

“Ah right, so” --he turned around from his previous position once Lance slowed the gait of the horse-- “how much do you know about deku scrub culture?”

“All the ones I’ve ever met are merchants, so they like to sell things and sweet talk you into a deal?” At this Bael flicked him in the back causing Lance to yelp in surprise.

“You’re going to have to do better than that. Deku scrubs are a prideful race and do not take lightly to disrespect, especially not an outsider. Fortunately for us they hold me in a high regard and I have befriended Her Majesty, Queen Euphorbia. All I need you to do is not be an idiotic foreigner.”  
  
“Yeah yeah, my dad’s a politician, I know all about diplomacy,” Lance said with a roll of his eyes.  
  
“That doesn’t instill me with confidence. Your politicians have regressed what little progress they had made in the last several decades.” Bael hopped off the horse and stepped around to its front side to pat the beast on his nose a few times.

“Even I can agree with you there,” Lance said while following the other’s actions. “Just need me to sit and look pretty? I’ve got a lot of experience in that regard as well.”

Bael shot him a look like he had something he terribly wanted to say but bit his tongue to refrain instead. “As another token of luck you’ll be glad to know the Deku Kingdom has a lot of admiration for humans since they modeled their entire government off the old Ikana Kingdom. They’re more saddened than angry about current affairs. So yes, sitting pretty should be just fine.”

Bael began leading Oberon by the reins towards the large vibrant building in the distance. Lance shouted in protest before jogging to catch up. As they walked closer to the entrance he couldn’t help but admire the bright vivid colors that made up the architecture of the palace. Everything was loud and demanded your attention, not dissimilar to a peacock who flashes his gorgeous feathers to garner attention from a peahen.

Lance stayed a couple of arm lengths away from the other man and fidgeted with his hair while crossing the log bridge leading to the entrance. He was never one to be vain, a quick comb in the morning suiting him just fine under normal circumstances. Being unfamiliar with nobility and how one would typically present themselves in front of beings with such esteem Lance was experiencing an unanticipated paranoia.

Bael swaggered towards the pair of guards posted out front while Lance’s fingers separated snags that had formed within his mane of hair. Immediately the pair of lackadaisical soldiers stood erect with a salute.

“Master Bael! We were not expecting you to pay a visit so soon before the festival. Her Majesty is meeting with her children now if you wish to pay your respects.” The deku soldier paused to peer around Bael’s side and take in the unexpected presence of an absent-minded Lance over thinking his predicament to a nauseating degree. “Are you making friends, Master Bael? Who’s the human?”

He turned his head behind him with a wry smile before facing forward again. “Consider him my assistant for the time being. Pay him no mind.” 

Lance twisted his lips in displeasure but made no comment.

“Very well. As you’re familiar with the palace you may proceed as usual, we will take care of your steed” the pair announced in unison before taking Oberon’s reins and disappearing from sight around the side of the building walls.

Bael led them to a small bench near the largest door in the lengthy corridor they passed through. He sat himself at one end of it and Lance on the opposing end. Idly his fingers threaded through long locks of his hair while ignoring a pointed stare from a certain fey.

Bael crossed his legs over each other with arrogant poise and an amused expression. “And here you struck me as the sort of person not aware of his own appeal, yet you fidget like a school boy with a crush.”  
  
Lance’s eyes darted to the side to shoot a seething glance his way but did not stop his fingers. “Royalty isn’t exactly something you meet as a human since the monarchy fell centuries ago. I would think a certain standard for appearance is expected by them.”

“Trust me, kid. You’re already better dressed than most of the citizens of this kingdom,” Bael retorted as he looked over to the grand door to the throne.

“Okay I can put up with a lot of things but calling me ‘kid’ when you look my age isn’t one of them,” Lance slammed his fist on the back of the bench and turned his head to fully look at Bael. 

At no point in any of today was he able to fully process what he was experiencing and was beginning to feel the onset of emotional overload. Today he woke up from a nightmare and went to look for just some of the many answers he needed. Hours later he met who he was now convinced was the devil and was being dragged around on an adventure he never asked for. It was sickening, truly, for how simple Lance’s desires were to just help his mother yet here he was now trying to help the world

_Then this man had the gall to treat him like a child._

When his eyes refocused from his abruptly ignited anger and he was able to remember himself and how he was supposed to behave Lance recoiled his hand but remained sitting up at his full height staring Bael down.

“Well you never introduced yourself to us. You had the privy of those old hags telling you my name but never offered the same courtesy to me.” Bael waved his hand in a dismissive gesture to appear nonchalant, but Lance could see the muscles tighten in his jaw as he held back the true depth of his displeasure.

“Oh.” That was all Lance could manage while sporting a blooming blush across his face as embarrassment pooled in his stomach.

“My name’s Lance. Lance Wisteria” -he turned his head to look at the lilac fairy fluttering a few inches above Bael’s head- “may I ask your name as well, Miss Fairy?”

He couldn’t quite tell if she was looking at him nor the expression she might wear on her face. There was a long pause after his question and he began to give up before being startled by her reply.

“Nyx,” she replied flatly.

“See? Was that so hard, Lance?” As Bael asked this he sprang up in response to the noise of large wooden doors sliding open. Somehow when Bael said his name it almost sounded like a curse or something vulgar.

Lance followed after him into the large door and played back the previous conversation in his mind agonizing over each detail. His anger got flipped back on him and he felt humiliated by it. Line by line he traced it back and the doors began to close behind them when his eyes went very wide and his lips thinned into a taut line.

Had Bael called him _appealing?_

* * *

“Queen Euphie! You’re looking as elegant as ever.” Bael turned his sickening charm up to max and walked forward with arms outstretched to greet the queen.

_Wait, no, time can’t keep moving. This needs to be addressed._

A warm feminine smile appeared in the back of Lance’s mind as he dryly swallowed his anguish while offering a small wave to the queen.

“I didn’t expect to see you here so soon, opening ceremonies for the festival don’t begin until tomorrow.” Despite being a deku whose body was of smaller stature than a grown human Queen Euphorbia’s presence demanded attention from all around her. She wore a flowing gown of woven grass and flowers with a giant blossom atop her head as a crown. In her company were two younger deku that resembled her elegance but with only a fraction of her draw.

The two separated from their casual hug and Bael offered an incline of his head to the royal family. “I actually came here to speak with you about that. With this being the tenth year and all I know the honorary sacrifice must take place.” Lance began taking short steps forward but still felt apprehensive about being any closer to him.

_What does he think of me, really?_

Lance was almost certain he was over thinking everything and Bael so far had presented himself to be an enigmatic tease. Yet, genuine compliments were not something he ever knew how to take. As the son of a wealthy family and the mayor to boot people had vied for his attention his whole life with nothing but ulterior motives behind them. Why on earth would this man need to sweet talk him to get what he wanted after frequently proving his natural power over Lance?

The queen cleared her throat. “Yes, my son Juji is the sacrifice this year” -she waved a hand back to show the obviously younger of the two- “why do you ask?”

“Now, if I’m overstepping my boundaries please let me know, Your Majesty. I would like to propose that my companions and I take part in the ritual by accompanying His Highness into the temple. As your guests, of course,” he offered with a smooth tone.

Lance was finally pulled from his rumination when he noticed that Bael was referring to him. He had absolutely no idea what had been said so when the queen looked at him pointedly he just nodded his head with a fake smile.

“As a dear friend of both mine and my kingdom I have no reason to reject your proposal. We of the Deku Kingdom would be honored for Master Bael to preside over the sacrifice to Odolwa,” Queen Euphorbia grinned to Bael.

“Sacrifice?” The word was out of Lance’s mouth before he could reconsider his situation. His eyes widened and his gaze shot to the floor immediately.

“It’s a custom in the Deku Kingdom. Once every ten years a ritual “sacrifice” is performed to appease the old god Odolwa. No one is actually killed anymore, that was a long time ago,” Bael quickly explained to Lance with a look in his eyes that screamed ‘please be quiet’. “Forgive him Your Majesty, I’m trying to expose him to other cultures outside of his own. You know, as a human there is little chance to understand the ways of other nations.”

“I’m well aware,” she asserted with an uncertain tone before shifting her tone back up and changing the topic. “The ceremony will be tomorrow at noon, you and your companions may stay here in the palace tonight. Come, Kuthro, Juji. Time for your evening studies.” The queen waved her hand to her two children and they disappeared into a wing adjoined to the throne room.

Then it was just the two of them and Lance felt his skin begin to crawl at not knowing how to go from here. For once he felt fortunate when Bael swung around with a knowing expression ready to lead the way from here. “Come on, I’ll show you to where we’ll be staying.” He then turned on his heels and headed for the opposite wing to where the family left.

At the end of this hall and past several ornate decorations that covered the palace Bael stopped in front of a single door before opening it with knowing ease. He gestured for Lance to go ahead before him which he did all too hastily. What he wasn’t prepared for was Bael following in behind him.

“I can’t even get my own place to sleep?” Lance forced the question out while intentionally staring at the single large bed within the room.

“I’m watching over you, remember? Last thing I need is someone to assassinate you while you’re helplessly asleep,” Bael reminded with an impatient tone dropping all charismatic pretense from earlier.

“I-is that something I should be concerned about,” Lance yelped as he shakily walked towards a folding screen near the back of the room.

“Not under normal circumstances, but if you haven’t noticed things aren’t particularly normal these days,” Bael paused before following Lance who was now behind the folding screen and slowly removing some of his outer layers to not be obvious he was just hiding from the other man. “You’re acting different from before.”

“You're imagining things,” he strained to say in a level tone.

Bael shrugged. “Suit yourself, not my business if you don’t want to tell me.” He stepped away from the folding screen to seat himself on the complete opposite side of the room against the wall so that he would be watching the side with the bed.

For a moment his chest twinged with discomfort that Bael so easily dropped the subject but soon after he let go of that negative emotion. Despite everything Lance had been through and what he remembered, he had only spent the day with him and they otherwise were perfect strangers to each other. It just so happened they were perfect strangers with lives completely intertwined now. He couldn’t help that his emotions were erratic and confused about everything.

“No, you’re right.” Lance stepped out from behind the folding screen dressed in his underclothes that consisted of long woolen pants and a long sleeve undershirt. Darkness had come quickly so much so that he barely paid it any mind until now. A single candle lit next to the door caused the room to glow with a lurid illumination. Bael was barely visible if not for the sight of his striking blue eyes.

“A lot has happened today and I’ve only taken the time just recently to comprehend it. It’s a little overwhelming,” he admitted sheepishly.

At first he assumed Bael was ignoring him due to the extended silence but he eventually answered. “You’ve been through a lot, I can’t deny that. You had a pretty cozy life beforehand didn’t you?”  
  
Lance merely nodded.

“I’m sorry life took this turn for you. It’s not something I would wish on my enemies,” Bael spoke with a somber voice.

“Is your life like this all the time?” Lance asked, having grown curious.

“This might be one of the most extreme problems I’ve dealt with, but it can be hectic like this often. I’m the only one capable of dealing with it.”

“Ehem,” a small feminine voice chimed in.

“Of course Nyx is always with me too. We’re a pair, you and I, don’t act as if you’re forgotten.” Nyx flew into Bael’s gloved palm and fell still in the comfort of his hand.

“It is the first time I’ve ever had to keep someone else with me that wasn’t a fairy, so getting along with someone outside of my family is new for me,” he admitted with half-lidded eyes looking at Lance warmly.

“Is that why you’re so-,” Lance cut himself off as his hands tightly clenched the sheets.

“Why I’m what?”

“Y’know, so casual and touchy-feely. Is that normal in your family?” Lance held his breath after finally asking the burning question on his mind.

Bael laughed. It was a deep rumbling laugh that lived primarily within the chest. The kind of laugh that didn’t imply mockery but pleasure instead.

“Skinship comes as natural to fairies as it does to breathe. I understand the same is not true for humans and it depends between person to person. I take it you’re not one of the ones that feels comfort in touch.”

Lance shook his head. “Displays of affection were reserved for when no one else was around. Hugs and kisses were held off for celebration once I started growing up instead of being something normal.” He drew his knees up to his chest before resting his chin on them.

“That just sounds sad to me, not gonna lie.” Bael raised his hand holding Nyx to his lips as he placed a gentle kiss atop her head. Sparks of envy ignited in Lance’s stomach for their casual intimacy with each other.

“Maybe so.”

Silence then fell between the three as Lance made himself comfortable under the bed sheets and attempted to fall asleep. He was unaccustomed to sleeping in strange places and yearned for the soft familiarity of his own bed. Worries for the events of tomorrow began to invade his mind constantly pulling him up from the brink of slumber. Like all things however, sleep inevitably found him.

Bael’s watchful gaze never left him that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for continuing to read along! As always l appreciate any reviews telling me what you enjoy or think I could do to improve :)


	7. The Festival of Awakening

Despite the inviting comfort of the bed he slept in, Lance was lifted from his surprisingly peaceful slumber by the strong scent of coffee wafting into his nose. He groaned as his hands reached to rub his eyes and he lifted himself up into an upright position. Immediately something on his neck felt off during the movement so he reached to find the source of the difference.

“A bandage?” Lance murmured sleepily under his breath. The more he felt the more obvious it was a piece of gauze taped down on his neck. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion before turning his head around to look for Bael who was sipping his own mug of coffee from the same place he sat last night. Next to him was a partially devoured platter of fruits and vegetables.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Bael called out as he raised his mug in greeting.

“Did you put this on me?”

“It certainly wasn’t going to be anybody else” -Bael popped a few grapes into his mouth before continuing to speak- “your wound came open in the middle of the night. It’s my fault it’s there, the least I could do is stop the bleeding.”

Lance overlooked his lack of manners. “How long did you stay up last night to notice something like that?” As he questioned Bael his hand reached over to lift the mug of hot coffee to his lips. His nose crinkled in displeasure noticing that someone had laced it with a sickening amount of sugar.

“Are you worrying over me?” Bael teased as he slid an orange slice into his mouth.

“Considering I’m supposed to be depending on you to keep me alive, yes I would like you to be well rested.” Bael snorted in response. “Did you make this coffee? It tastes like a ten-year old made it for me.”

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those stuffy people who won’t drink it unless it tastes just as sad as they feel on the inside.

Lance hummed as he dove into the fruit platter while ignoring the other man. He felt oddly at ease falling into this casual banter between the two of them. The more he thought about it Lance felt that despite all his talk and prowess Bael could be a bit immature. It could make dealing with him confusing when Lance expected him to react in a way typical of a person his own age.

“So tell me what I should be expecting today,” Lance spoke after nibbling on an apple.

“Do you know anything about the festival?”

Lance shook his head and Bael heaved a disappointed sigh.

“Their festival, which is called the Festival of Awakening, was created in response to the Carnival of Time you humans hold in Clock Town. It coincided with an old decree by their ancient god Odolwa who demanded a sacrifice every decade. If they didn’t satisfy it he would poison the land and kill everyone,” Bael explained.

“But he’s not around anymore, right?”

“Correct. The sacrifice is staged now in honor of the deku that gave their lives in the past. It’s a total formality, but” -Bael tapped his fingers on the side of his cup with a brief pause- “it does require venturing into the Woodfall Temple.”

“To find some remains of some old god.”

“Odolwa’s remains, specifically,” Bael made a point to clarify.

“Right, because that will tell us-”

“It will tell us if Mr. Shadow is rallying his friends to his cause.”

“And the cause is?”

“That’s the million rupee question isn’t it?” Bael finished off his breakfast and gulped down lukewarm remnants of his coffee. Swiftly he stood himself off the ground and dusted off his clothes. “Hurry and get ready they’ll be coming to get us any moment now.”

Lance, now alert and leaving his plate half-finished, quickly throws on the clothes from the day before. “Why didn’t you wake me up earlier then?” He shouted in annoyance before disappearing behind the folding screen.

Bael only grinned while out of Lance’s sight.

* * *

Lance anxiously tried to smooth down his hair having been given no time to groom himself this morning. Luckily the deku hardly gave him a passing glance as Bael was the only person they would talk to. What little he could pick up from the conversation was that the royal family and citizens of the kingdom were waiting for their arrival as honored guests to take part in the esteemed sacrifice of Prince Juji.

He did admire along their trip the gorgeous natural beauty of the Southern Swamp region. The colors of the natural flora were in vibrant shades of red and orange which complimented the color of the murky purple swamp water. The Woodfall region was in contrast to this loud passionate aesthetic but exuded its own natural muted beauty. The great open spaces surrounded by a mixture of both dead and living plant life caused the area to stand out visually.

Upon arriving at the great stretch of wooden structures raised above the swamp waters Lance took in the underwhelming number of deku citizens who were here in attendance. When he was told of a festival he imagined something to the immense scale of Clock Town’s carnival, but that was not the case here. Each deku in attendance showed familiarity and comfort with one another as if each person they met was a distant family member or a long-lost friend. The community was small but the bonds were very strong because of it.

Standing upon a great daïs Queen Euphorbia stood in her radiant elegance. Her festive attire was of an entirely new robe made of floral materials once again, this time in hues of red and green. Her two children stood alongside her looking stoic, though Lance could see even on a deku that Juji was nervous. His heart twinged with sympathy for what he presumed was just a young child.

The queen’s eyes lit up when she noticed Bael’s approach and lauded their arrival with boisterous appeal. Bael’s back straightened and his grin turned sickening sweet as his pace hurried to arrive at the daïs leaving Lance to scramble after him best he could.

“Citizens of the Deku Kingdom, it is with great honor that I announce the arrival of our honored guest. Master Bael, Lord of the Woods, is here to present our decennial sacrifice to the great god Odolwa,” the queen shouted to an immediately hushed audience. The crowd cheered when Bael’s name was mentioned which caused Lance to contemplate just what exactly he meant to these people.

Bael, ever the crowd pleaser, stood and accepted his applause with the grace of a prince. “I would just like to give thanks to Her Majesty for honoring me with this role in your sacred tradition. To Prince Juji, I promise to serve you well in appeasing Odolwa.” Bael offered the prince a modest bow that he clearly looked uncomfortable to be on the receiving end of. His brother Kuthro appeared on the verge of a laughing fit.

The band of horns picked up and the festivities fell back into full swing. Lance stood back from all of them only remaining within earshot of the group on the daïs. He felt like and probably was considered an unwelcome outsider by the people here. It was like Bael said, he was just here to be kept out of trouble and nothing he did otherwise really held any significance.

Lance watched as the queen turned to press a kiss to her son’s forehead. Reaching up she snapped a branch off of her large floral crown and handed it to Juji. For a moment her face had flashed with pain causing Lance to realize that the decor on her head was not a crown but actually a part of her body. Kuthro stepped around as well and clapped his brother on the back causing the smaller of the two to jolt forward. He repeated his mother’s previous action with one of the leaves on his head. Juji nodded before looking to Bael and nodding to him.

“C’mon Lancelot, it’s time to go,” Bael ordered as he began to follow behind the small prince.

Lance’s chest tightened uncomfortably before looking up to shoot a look towards Bael. He hurriedly jogged after him to catch up. This was not a right Bael had earned with him.

“No nicknames. You asked me for my name and you have it, got it?” Lance glared with a harsh whispered tone next to Bael’s ear.

“Fine, fine. No need to be so sensitive. You really are no fun,” Bael said with a roll of his eyes.

“I’m not here to have fun nor should you be either. Unless you have already forgotten our situation.”

Bael opened his mouth to say more but instead became eerily still as he turned to face forward. They were walking along the log bridge that led to the Woodfall Temple with the prince leading them across slowly with reluctant steps carrying the pieces of his family clutched in his small arms. Lance was confused to watch as Bael fruitlessly tried to reach forward and grasp the prince to drag him back.

Then time appeared to slow to nearly a halt.

Lance felt a chill wind its way around his neck and down his spine while his vision lit up with pure red. His throat began to tighten as his eyes connected with a pair of golden ones peering from within the darkness inside the temple. A humanoid figure began to lurch out of the doorway and the sound of the horn players completely died away to be replaced with horrendous screams of horror.

This figure was beyond human comprehension. Taller than two grown men combined and the leathery skin bound tightly to its skeleton was covered with vibrant body paint. It clutched a giant blade in one hand with a fearsome mask covering its face. Lance couldn’t bring himself to run away as it began to approach them. Bael was stumbling from trying to reach forward and grasp the prince and as it was would be too late to intervene in whatever this mysterious creature would do.

With legs moving against his will Lance was propelled forward now diving in front of Prince Juji shielding him with his own body. The monster did not hesitate in its pursuit and Lance watched as the creature raised its great sword into the air.

His perception of reality began to grow disoriented. He remembered the screaming crowd and the look on Juji’s face as he dived in front of him. It was a look of confused terror. He remembered sticky red blood spurting over his clothes drenching him with the hot liquid. Somehow he lost the ability to make noise or even to breathe. More strongly than he remembered anything else was the sound of Bael’s frustrated howling of his name.

He felt and heard a thump, then everything went black.

* * *

Immediately his upper body shot up out of laying in his bed and just as he was about to yell out in anguish a hand with immense strength was around his neck and pushing him back down to his pillow stifling his cries.

“That was incredibly _stupid_ of you,” Bael rasped in a hushed tone only a hair’s breadth away from Lance’s face.

Lance was still in a completely panicked state which only resulted in him expediting his suffocation while trying to rest Bael’s hand from his neck with little avail. Bael only looked down at him with contempt and no sign of strain against Lance’s resistance. Lance began to gasp for air.

“I’ll ease up when you calm down,” he hissed through his teeth.

Lance persisted in flailing his legs around a bit but he began trying to slow down his breathing. His hands still clung to Bael’s grip on him but had ceased pulling at the other man’s fingers. Gradually his fingers loosened little by little until breathing normally returned. He kept his thumb pressed firmly at the base of Lance’s throat and continued hovering over him startlingly close.

“I told you not to put yourself in unnecessary danger, and what do you do immediately at the first sign of it? _You get your bloody fucking head chopped off_ ,” Bael seethed with a level of rage Lance had not yet seen from the man. It made all the blood in his body run cold.

“That- that thing was going to kill him, what was I supposed to do?” Lance stammered under the steely gaze above him.

Bael shook his head and scoffed as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “He was reaching for Juji with his free hand to take him. No one would have had to get hurt.”

“I’m the one who died! I shouldn’t have to take this ridicule from you. All I wanted to do was save someone this time,” Lance began to shout before Bael’s thumb pressed firmly into his throat stifling the volume. This made him send his own unsavory look up at the other man.

“Well you didn’t, and now we’re back here. You think you’ve got the worst of it? All the people who saw what happened to you at the festival won’t remember a thing happened. For you it’s just the foggy remnants of a dream. As for me? I remember it all.” Bael’s thumb pulled up from pressing on his throat as he noticed Lance’s expression shift from anger to confusion and concern.

“Next time you decide to throw away your life like it doesn’t matter, maybe spare a thought to that fact.” He removed himself from hovering over Lance and stood up from the bed to pace around the room. Nyx flew over from her place on the windowsill to follow Bael and speak with him in hushed whispers.

Lance sat himself up in his bed and rested his back against the headboard. Sitting up he now noticed outside his window that it was still the dead of night. The window near his bed was flung open having been the point of entry for Bael. He realized this meant that Bael must have left hours ago to come find him and be here when Lance woke up.

“I’m sorry,” Lance spoke softly.

Bael cut his eyes back in the other’s direction and paced over before resting his hands on the footboard of the bed. “Just because death means something different to you now doesn’t mean you should risk your life.”

“Because it resets everything, I know you already made that abundantly clear,” Lance said while averting his gaze down to his hands resting on his lap.

Before Lance realized what was happening Bael had stepped around the bed once more and grasped him by the shoulders. “Is that truly how little you think of yourself?” He was shocked to find when he looked up that Bael’s face was one of distress. “You’re a human being, that alone means so much more.”

Lance couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact with Bael, the intensity of his pleading eyes was too much for him to bear.

“I think I misjudged you when I met you,” Bael announced as he pulled away from him and backed away.

“What do you mean?”

“I knew about your upper class lifestyle; I could tell just by looking at you. You’re not pompous though, and you don’t have that powerful love for yourself I’ve seen in wealthy people. I get the feeling you kind of just build your self-worth around pleasing other people.”

How dare he? How dare this man he barely knew cut him to the core of his being? Someone who kept himself so isolated from human society yet he could peer into Lance’s soul. Lance’s eyes squinted as his fists twisted into the bed sheets.

Much to Lance’s surprise he felt a gentle warmth rest on his head but Bael was still nowhere near him. When he looked up he saw a lilac glow radiating from above him.

“It’s okay,” Nyx whispered in the kindest tone he had heard from her yet.

Lance grew still. The presence of the fairy soothed him in a way he was incapable of comprehending. Bael crossed his arms then turned to look out the window into the pitch blalck of night.

“We need to go back soon. As long as we just repeat today what we did earlier we should be able to recreate the same events. This time, however, I need you to do as I do. I need you to trust me.”

“Are we going to rescue Prince Juji this time?” Lance asked as Nyx had shifted from the top of his head to resting in the palm of his hand.

“What you saw before wasn’t me trying to rescue him, it was a façade. Clearly a convincing one,” Bael added with a small hint of his usual wit resurfacing. “We can’t repel Odolwa, so we may as well let him take what he’s pursuing and follow him into the temple.”

“What’ll we do after that? We can’t just let that monster do whatever he wants with him.”

“Of course not. This time I’ll be armed. Ideally we can catch him unawares as he’s running from us. Now get ready for the road, we’ll be leaving before dawn.”

* * *

Lance prepared Oberon for the same trip as before the reset but a lot more calmly. Surprisingly as Bael was away making sure Lance’s room was left in pristine condition Nyx remained with him silently. Lance had attempted to start casual conversation with her having joked about thinking she didn’t like him but she merely denounced that opinion and said nothing more.

Once Oberon was properly saddled he mounted the horse and waited alongside the stable for Bael’s arrival. The first glow of sunrise was beginning to peek over the horizon and homes began to stir with activity. Bael appeared around the corner running towards them with something under his arm wrapped in cloth. Clumsily he hopped on the back of the horse and seated himself behind Lance facing his backside this time while looping his arms around his waist.

“You might wanna make it quick,” Bael urged while squeezing Lance’s abdomen.

Without sparing a moment to ask Lance spurred Oberon and sped out of his neighborhood in the direction of the southern city gates. Fortunately the town was still sleepy just as he remembered it being before and the guards put up no resistance to his departure.

Once they were several minutes out of town and nearing the swamp Lance slowed the horse’s gait to a pleasant trot. This led Bael to shift his position to be sitting side-saddle as he began unwrapping the bundle in his lap.

“So what was all that about?” Lance finally asked, unable to look back at the other.

“Breakfast. I wanted to dig up something simple for us to eat. I got caught up admiring all the options since you have a fancy kitchen with a refrigerator.” Bael snaked his arm around and placed a sandwich in Lance’s lap. “I think your house servant might have seen me.”

“Great, now Abi is going to think I’ve been kidnapped by a burglar. Thanks for that,” he remarked as he begrudgingly lifted the sandwich to his mouth to begin eating.

“For as much of a worrisome person as I thought you were, you don’t sound awfully bothered by it,” Bael replied with a mouthful of food.

“My dad has a history of not believing the servants when they say anything outlandish. Even if he does believe her it doesn’t really matter; when I eventually reappear he’ll shout at me like usual and that will be the end of it.”

Bael shifted uneasily. “Not a fan of the old man, huh?”

“More like he’s not a fan of me.”

* * *

The rest of the trip played out very similarly as it did before the reset. This time was marginally more pleasant because the reality of the situation was known by now and Lance felt himself a little less irritated by Bael. Upon arrival at the Deku Palace everything played out exactly the same as it did before. It was unsettling to watch life repeat itself and be aware of it unfolding identically.

Everything leading up to that moment of crossing the bridge matched his memory except this time Nyx was still keeping by his side more often when she didn’t need to speak with Bael. Lance’s chest tightened as he anticipated the appearance of Odolwa, but Nyx’s presence eased some of his tension.

The great giant appeared from his temple once more and charged towards Prince Juji. Bael repeated his flailing attempt to snatch up the prince and this time Lance followed suit. Both men fell to the ground and tried to scramble up but the deku prince was already being snatched up by the monster. The cries of the festival goers swelled as Prince Juji disappeared into the temple.

Bael and Lance’s eyes locked with each other when they stood up as neither person questioned what would come next and what they must do. Bounding forward with adrenaline pumping in their veins the trio disappeared into the belly of the best.


	8. Come and Burn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first chapter I'm posting with a beta reader! I hope there is a noticeable improvement going forward. As always please feel free to comment one what you liked and what you think I may be able to improve on.

Immediately upon arrival into the opening chamber the pair lost sight of the hulking warrior as it disappeared into the darkness clutching the crying prince. In its wake a blazing fire was set blocking their pursuit. Bael quickly diverted their course through a side corridor to continue their chase but by the time they entered the new room the trail was cold. When he noticed this Bael kicked the wall in frustration and set into thoughtful pacing.

“What do we do now?” Lance asked while catching his breath from all of their running.

Bael proceeded to ignore him as he studied the chambers of the room. This particular room was a wide open multi-floor space with a pool of swamp water in the center. In the water floated large lily pads with blood red flowers growing on them. At first they appeared innocuous, but upon closer investigation rows of teeth adorned each petal on the floor. Lance shivered before moving himself as far away from the edge that they stood on.

“Bael, we have to keep moving,” Nyx chimed in once she left Lance’s shoulder to fly next to Bael.

“If we get more lost our odds are even worse.”

Lance took a couple steps towards them but hesitated before drawing close. “I mean if we mess up we can just try again, you know,” Lance offered with uncertainty.

Bael looked up at Lance with a seething gaze that said more than he needed to about how he felt towards that suggestion. Lance averted his own face having known it would get that kind of response but he was at a loss for how to help them in this situation. His life was the only thing he had worth giving to save Juji.

“Oh good, you’re all still here,” an unfamiliar voice announced from around the corner of the doorway. Bael instinctively went on the defense stepping around Lance while posturing ready to strike. Lance felt weirdly embarrassed by the gesture but also appreciative as he ducked behind his companion.

Rounding the corner came Prince Kuthro which eased the heightened tensions immediately. Bael flinched in alarm having not expected anyone to follow them into the temple.

“Your Highness, what are you doing here? It’s unsafe, you should go back,” Bael pleaded.

Kuthro raised a hand and countered with a ferocious glare. “That beast took my little bro, you think I’m just gonna hang out there with Mom with my tail tucked between my legs? Not happening Bael.”

His extremely casual way of speaking threw off Lance but in the same moment he also felt that he could be more comfortable around this deku noble compared to his family. Lance looked to Bael to observe his response not having any guess on how he might respond.

“You were the sacrifice yourself ten years ago, weren’t you?” As Bael asked this the deku prince’s confidant stature faltered if only for just a moment.

“I was. That means I have a pretty good chance of knowing where it took Juji.”

“I can hardly argue with that. Alright, lead the way Your Highness.” Bael stepp to the side graciously to allow Kuthro to guide them into the depths of the temple.

* * *

“So Bael, I don’t ask this to accuse you of anything but did you know that monster was going to be there?” Kuthro broke the unsettling silence that formed between them as they ventured deeper into the antiquated temple.

“It was something I didn’t rule out as a possibility, but no I had no way of knowing Odolwa would be here.”

“Do you truly believe that to be him?”

“I do.”

Silence fell once more as Kuthro strained to move aside the natural debris blocking their path. Despite the luxurious life he probably led as a prince he appeared to be powerful for one of his species. Only a handful of times would Lance step up instead of Bael to help him out but in reality he could barely budge it an inch while Kuthro bore most of the burden. Lance tried to not let it show but after a couple of attempts he resided himself to pout behind the other two.

“Don’t say a word,” Lance said without even batting an eye at Bael.

“I’m hurt you would insinuate I’m thinking anything insidious,” Bael replied with a flick of his ponytail off of his shoulder.

“Is it like this all the time?” Kuthro turned to address Nyx.

“It’s a recent development, but yes I’m certain this is the new normal.”

“Hey!” Lance and Bael shouted in unison then instantly turned away from each other in a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance.

“Did you pick up a human pet or something, Bael? I never thought a loner like you would seek out companionship.”

Lance stumbled with surprise at the brazenness of the question, and Lance noticed even Bael was balking at the assumption. “I- I wouldn’t call it anything like that. It’s more of a forced cooperation we’re trying to make the best of,” Bael struggled to say.

“Hmph, if you say so. How do you feel about it?” Kuthro turned to Lance to ask.

“Oh well it’s basically like that. I guess.”

“I suppose there’s worse reasons to be risking your life with someone,” Kuthro finished right as the last bit of debris was removed and they continued on farther into the temple depths.

* * *

Soon they reached a grand room in the back of the temple that Kuthro proclaimed was the same sacrificial room he visited a decade prior. It was the most ornate one Lance had seen so far, its appearance depicting a story with long since faded paintings. From what he could decipher it was showing a deku noble being thrown into the giant maw of a terrible beast which brought about a time of peace. On the opposite side of the door it depicted the kingdom hiding away their noble child which angered the beast resulting in a time of strife.

Unfortunately the door was firmly shut so the two strong members of the group began pulling while Lance stood back to stand guard.

“How long ago did the sacrifices stop needing to be killed?” Lance asked, not content to stand in silence.

“Hundreds of years ago when Odolwa was killed,” Kuthro replied through the physical strain.

“Why do you keep doing it after all this time? Even without that thing around this place is still dangerous.”

“They ceased for a long time up until a hundred years ago. That changed a hundred years ago during the time of the hero from another land. My fourth-great grandfather was king at the time and my third-great grandmother was the princess. Odolwa took her and destroyed the land in exactly the same way he did centuries prior. Out of fear we resumed the tradition even though really it affected nothing in the end.” As Kuthro finished his explanation he turned away from the door and slid down with his back against the wall having exerted himself.

“Bael, we need to find another way this isn’t going to work,” Kuthro said among gasps for breath.

“That wasn’t Odolwa, it was an evil spirit possessing his corpse. A hundred years ago, I mean,” Lance continued.

“And?”

“Well, it’s a horrible thing to mutilate your bodies as part of some old tradition that accomplishes nothing.”

“A human doesn’t get to tell me how our people should react to our traumatic experiences. If we experienced another bout of the swamp turning toxic we would all die because we would have no one to turn to,” Kuthro declared as he stood up to begin stepping towards Lance with a flash of anger in his eyes.

“I’m not trying to do that, it’s just-”

“Human society has always looked down on us despite our adoration for your way of life. Hundreds of years of our culture is defined by admiring the human societies. Even now when you spit at us for trying to trade with you we can’t help but yearn for days past.” At this point Kuthro was right in front of Lance, punctuating every so many words with a jab to Lance’s stomach. At his full height the top of the prince’s head came up to his sternum but the pure malice in his gaze made Lance feel insignificant.

Nyx flew into the small gap between them yelling, “Stop it! We don’t have time for petty arguments.”

Kuthro’s hands shifted to squeezing the sides of his own head as he turned around in irritation. “My brother is about to be killed and I’m here arguing with an ignorant human. Bael! Leave the door alone, we have to do something else.”

Lance’s gaze was averted to the ceiling as he tried to mask his guilt for being insensitive. By doing so however he caught a glimpse of something that might aid their mission. “How about that window up there?” He asked while pointing to an opening near to the ceiling of this room.

“I’m coming to save you Juj!” Kuthro shouted as he ran headfirst towards the wall to begin climbing the overgrowth leading to the window. Bael quickly did the same with Lance following his lead before Bael turned around to stop him.

“You stay here. I think this is the exception to my rule because if he’s in there you’re going to be in danger.”

“The two of you can’t fight him alone! At the very least let me help rescue Juji,” Lance pleaded, trying to push past but was firmly reminded of his weakness compared to the shorter man.

“Stay. Nyx, keep an eye on him.” Bael began to turn around but Lance persisted to climbing along with him. This caused something to snap in Bael’s brain as he spun around once more, this time planting his gloved hand on the center of Lance’s chest. “Sorry, I didn’t want to have to do this.”

Before he could resist Lance crumbled to the floor completely out cold.

* * *

His head throbbed like the morning after an all-night bender at Latte when Lance finally roused from his unconscious state. Blurry eyes made it difficult to discern but he could tell that he was still outside the great door leading to Odolwa. A soft twinkling noise made its way to his ears as Nyx flew down from the window to check on him. Her manner of flying was erratic which caused Lance to launch up in alarm that something must be wrong.

“Lance! You have to get up, Bael’s been fighting for almost an hour and it’s not looking so good.”

“Kuthro, Juji, are they okay?”

“Juji is on top of a pyre but they’ve been keeping Odolwa from igniting it. Kuthro got injured and is unconscious. I know Bael said to stay here, but-”

“No, don’t worry,” Lance assured her as he uneasily stood up. “I’ll try to give him the upper hand.”

With Nyx in tow he bound for the vine covered wall and struggled with each pull to lift himself higher towards the window. Several times he lost his grip and slid down but thankfully the growth was a tangled mess that allowed him to easily recover himself. Upon reaching the top he crawled on his stomach through the window out onto a ledge that ran around the circular room near to the ceiling. Edging closer as quiet as could be he peered down to take in the confrontation.

Immediately upon approaching the window he could hear the strained grunts of Bael and the wicked laughter of Odolwa. It did nothing to convey the sheer difference in the power between the two beings. Odolwa at full height towered over Bael three times his height with a powerful muscular body that swung his great sword as if it were no heavier than a knife. Bael was forced to dance around on nimble feet to avoid each earth shaking collision of the sword that left crevices in the stone floor. If he hit Bael just once the man would crumple instantly with every bone in his body crushed. It looked as if the spear Bael wielded had long since been kicked aside as he brandished a dagger that barely registered as a weapon in this battle.

A ring of fire surrounded the combatants, preventing either one from moving much farther away from the center of the room. Lance then caught a glimpse of Juji laying on top of a pile of organic material atop a ceremonial daise in the back of the room. Kuthro was not far away from him laying in his own broken heap. Both deku princes appeared to be unconscious and worse for wear.

Taking in the particular ledge they were on, Lance surmised that if he was careful he could crawl around to the backside and climb down on more vines in the back. Stealthiness wasn’t his forte but there wasn’t another option in this circumstance.

“I’m going to put myself back where Juji is at. After a few minutes can you fly down and try to distract Odolwa?” Lance whispered in the smallest voice he could manage. Nyx shook as she floated in place.

“I’ll try,” she replied, unable to hide the uncertainty in her voice.

The journey to the back of the room was a painstaking one and a much farther distance he realized initially. Periodically he stopped to peer over the side to make sure Bael was still surviving the fight. The closer he got the easier it was to see just how exhausted he was from dodging every blow, desperate to find an opening just to slash at the monster’s arms to little avail. Lance also noticed that the fire from the ring was lapping at the sides of the room and slowly approaching the vines on the wall, threatening to ignite the entire room in an inferno that would incinerate all of them.

As he drew nearer to the back Nyx flew down in a dive directly towards Odolwa’s face. His mask disguised his face but it was easy to tell that Bael stole the entirety of his attention and Nyx was going to only have one chance to truly take him by surprise.

Odolwa was rearing his arm back ready to drive home another terrible blow.. As the sword began to swing down Nyx dashed into the creature’s face, slipping herself underneath the lip of the mask as she prepared to make herself as much of a nuisance to the creature as she could.

His arm went limp to his side as the free hand reached to paw at his mask clawing with grotesque nails to try and pry the small being hidden beneath the surface. Bael wasted no time responding to this distraction as he ran in to slash at the monster’s feet in an attempt to sever the heel cord and bring him down to his knees. He was able to successfully slash at the tendon of the left foot, causing bright red fluid to spurt from the open wound. The beast howled in pain as it batted at him with the side of his sword, leaving Bael with no choice but to step back and leave the other foot intact.

Meanwhile, Lance had just finished climbing down the wall grateful to see that Odolwa was very distracted by their diversion and his companion was able to land a successful blow to the monster. Content with that knowledge in mind he began to clamber up the pyre made of dead logs and ripped up vines to lift up Juji and pull him backwards closer to the back of the room. The prince was completely unconscious which prompted Lance to attempt slapping the sides of his face. Juji groaned in discomfort before his eyes fluttered open. He squinted to look up at lance before a small smile appeared on his snout.

“You found me,” the prince spoke kindly.

“We can talk later. Are you able to climb?”

Juji nodded cautiously before Lance lifted up his body and held him against the vines to urge him to climb.

“Go. I’ll find a way to rescue the others but you need to get out of here now.”

Lance turned around with the backdrop of the little deku prince struggling to lift his weakened body to climb upwards. He began striding over to Kuthro’s body to check on him when he heard the beast squall in pain followed by a resounding thump of wood on stone.

The mask the beast wore lay on the floor now covered in blood and strings of muscle that must have kept it adhered to the beast’s face. His free hand was curled into a tight fist emitting a small feminine screech from within. Bael flew into a blind rage at this sound and leapt forward fully intending to slice the monster’s jugular if at all possible. Odolwa easily slapped him aside with the back of his sword hand.

With one foot ruined Odolwa limped over to Bael lying flat on the stone floor doing his best to recover from the shock of his head colliding with the floor. Odolwa pressed the ball of his foot on the center of Bael’s stomach, causing the smaller man to gasp as the wind was knocked out of him. Blood poured from the fresh wound on the monster’s face causing Bael to be drenched with it, choking on what fell into his mouth.

“You thought you could best me, pathetic little half-creature. Your days as a pretender are finished,” the creature hissed through dripping liquid that splattered with his words.

“ _No, no, no no no no no._ ” Lance stared in horror as he watched Bael be completely overwhelmed. Time slowed around him as his memories flashed to his prior death. Bael’s anguish as he reprimanded him for dying right in front of him carelessly. He now understood that horror as it was playing out before him, but Bael wouldn’t wake up from a bad dream as he did.

At that moment, against all his better judgement and any assumption someone would make about him, Lance was sprinting at this beast. Hurriedly he pulled the knife from his pocket and discarded the sheathe somewhere on the floor. The furious ring of fire masked his troubled breathing and pounding feet that collided with the stone hard enough to bruise the soles. He stepped up to the dais that Juji was previously on and launched himself into the air and over the fire with the only sight in his eyes being the back of Odolwa’s back.

Instantly the blade plunged in between the shoulderblades of the monster and Lance was grasping his shoulders to hang on with all his might. Without thinking his head bent down and bit firmly into the rancid flesh tasting of tree rot and ash. Despite the discomfort he would hold on for dear life.

Immediately Odolwa began reaching back with his sword to clumsily try and slash at the offending pest who did this to him. Lance endured the strikes to his back only biting into the flesh hard. Eventually he managed to completely bite through the muscle making his teeth clatter when they collided. Without missing a beat he was biting him once more.

Finally the monster stepped back in an attempt to swing him off which gave Bael just the opportunity he needed. He hacked up the blood choking his throat and quickly refilled his lungs with the air he desperately needed. With a knife in hand he sliced the other heel tendon and as the beast screeched in pain Bael used the entirety of his might to push the giant over to fall on his back.

“Lance, get down now!” Bael shouted in desperation as he began running around to where Odolwa’s head would be when he landed.

Slow to respond Lance narrowly launched himself off the creature while he was halfway through falling through the air. He rolled on his side to lessen the impact but with adrenaline pumping in his veins he was able to spring back up surprisingly quickly to rejoin Bael at Odolwa’s head.

During his fall the giant had released Nyx who flew to the back of the room and away from the fire. Immediately after impact Bael placed the sharp point in the center of Odolwa’s throat. With the mask gone his face was a horrific sight. Torn muscles and sinew were the top layer with no skin left to hide them. His teeth were a startling solid back and instead of two eyes there was only one singular throbbing eyeball in the center of the monster’s head. It flickered rapidly between looking at Bael and Lance but without lips it was impossible to discern his expression.

“Why are you alive?” Bael asked with hatred raging in his eyes.

Odolwa laughed. It was a throaty sound that was nothing like what a human being could produce. “You slipped up. You let Dumah find what he was looking for. We rise and wait for his glorious return.” Each word caused muscle fibers to unwind around his jaw making understanding his words an ever increasing ordeal.

“By ‘we’ you mean the others are awakened as well?”

The monster only half-lidded his eyes as his teeth came together in a grotesque attempt at a smile. “Killing me will only prolong the inevitable. Once he returns to us we will rise again. And again. It will never end.”

Instead of bothering to ask anymore Bael sank the blade into his neck all the way down to the hilt. Odolwa’s body convulsed as his survival instinct tried to resist his end. Before he was able to raise a hand and strike at Bael all signs of life vanished from his body. The ring of fire surrounding them died down until it was nothing but a memory scorched into the stone.

As the giant lay before them, both men felt the entirety of their adrenaline exit their bodies all at once. Lance dropped down to his knees pressing his face into the palms of his hands. Bael slipped off Odolwa’s chest before walking over and kneeling beside Lance.

“You may hate me for this, but I’m doing it anyway and you can yell at me later.”

Before Lance could respond to ask him what he was talking about Bael pulled him into a tight embrace. His arms barely encircle Lance’s much larger frame as he pulls the larger man into his chest to rest his chin on the top of his head.

“That was so utterly and unbelievably stupid of you. By that I mean that it took some serious balls to pull off and I’m so glad you did.”

Lance wasn’t capable of producing the modesty it would take to be extremely embarrassed by what Bael was doing nor annoyed by him. After what they just went through Lance could agree that it felt natural and earned.

“I should have probably expected you to be mad at me, but to be honest I wasn’t even thinking at all. When I saw you there on the ground about to be killed I- I stopped being aware of what I was doing. All of a sudden I was running at the monster thinking how I just couldn’t let him kill you.”

Bael pulled back from the tight hug but still his arms were resting on Lance’s body. When Lance looked up to his face he was met with a softened expression unlike any Bael had ever given him before. Lance could only guess that Bael was deeply touched that he would risk himself like that to save the other man.

Interrupting their post-adrenaline high reverie, Nyx flew over quietly to hover at Bael’s side. Having an audience suddenly made Lance aware of his position, causing him to shimmy out of Bael’s grasp who wordlessly let him leave.

“Bael, Lance, are you two okay?”

Bael nodded with a smile as he realized the meaning of his answer. Nyx however continued to float in place with nothing else to say. Her body began to shake just like she did before when she was afraid for Bael’s life.

“What’s wrong?” Bael asked with deep concern.

“It’s- it’s Kuthro,” Nyx paused to fly closer to him and press herself against his cheek.

Between the two of them their hearts simultaneously sank into their stomachs as realization set in that the safety of the two princes was currently unknown to them. Immediately their fears devised the worst case scenarios.

“Kuthro’s not breathing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some trivia for you. In the Odolwa fight in Majora's Mask he speaks several lines in Mayan. One of these lines is "come and burn".
> 
> Last thing, this story has a blog now! If you'd like some extras I'll be posting like artwork and side stories feel free to give it a follow.
> 
> https://likethegearsofaclock.tumblr.com/


	9. Ashes

The young deku prince lay before the three of them in stoic serenity; his calm expression in contrast with the charred remains of his lower half. His right shoulder had been cleaved by Odolwa’s great sword and had been the final blow that led to his demise. Bael closed his eyelids and if they hadn’t known better it would have looked as if Kuthro was sleeping soundly.

“If he hadn’t been there to draw in Odolwa’s assault I would have never stood a chance. Prince Kuthro was a brave deku, and your death will not be in vain Your Highness,” Bael swore solemnly.

Lance had been struggling to keep his breathing steady since Nyx delivered the revelation to them. His chest tightened with every shallow breath. He stumbled forward to follow behind Bael but his shoes felt like they were made of lead and he lacked the strength to lift them. Another person had died as a result of his inaction. Vividly he could recall the moment he was running to Kuthro’s side but became distracted by Bael’s impending doom. He’d made a choice and this was the price he’d paid.

_There’s no guarantee he was alive when I woke up; I can’t assume that. I will never know for certain if it was my inaction that killed him. Maybe if I try again…_

“You’ll have to help me get him out of here. He deserves a proper funeral. We should also check on Juji, did you see where he went?” Bael was beginning to lift Kuthro’s arm over his shoulder to lift him off the ground but became alarmed at the lack of response. His head turned up and his eyes filled with panic.

“Lance, what are you doing?”

Lance was kneeling on the ground staring downward at his hands held out before him. One held his knife with the blade pressed firmly to the flesh of the inner side of his other arm. Lance’s breathing was ragged as sweat began to bead on his forehead.

Bael sprang forward and in an instant was ripping the weapon from his hand. Lance looked up at him with pained eyes that had long since gone dry. There was a flash of confused fury before Lance lurched forward to seize the weapon once more, but Bael was too quick. Bael threw the blade far to the side and moved in to grapple the other man.

Lance tried and failed to fight against the restraint but once again his power was no match for Bael’s immense strength and speed. Before he knew it Bael was holding him from behind with Lance’s arms pulled straight back and locked in his hold. Bael’s knee was pressed firmly into the center of his back severely limiting his movements. With little energy left to spare to fight back any longer, Lance’s body slackened and he whimpered his despair.

“I understand what you’re thinking Lance, I really do, but you can never guarantee that knowledge of the potential future will ensure it happens the way you want it to,” Bael groaned, enduring the utter exhaustion of his body.

Lance’s body began to shake. “This is the third time my decisions or inactions have caused somebody to die. I thought this time I was changing since I was able to save you. I was wrong, so very wrong,” he finished with a croak. Bael’s forehead pressed into his back as his firm hold on him eased.

“You’re putting the weight of everything on your shoulders but you shouldn’t be. I carry more blame than you, he sustained a lot of damage protecting me from harm. We all played some part in this unfortunate end.” By this point he had let go of Lance entirely and was standing up. He offered a hand to Lance to help him up which he gratefully accepted.

“Even though what we’re doing is noble in the effort to save Termina, we won’t be able to save everyone no matter what we do nor how many retries we get.” Bael grasped Lance’s wrist, the very same one he nearly sliced open, and pulled him forward to the deceased prince.

“I can carry him by myself. Did you send Juji somewhere safe?” 

Lance solemnly nodded. 

“Good, you can escort him out of this place and we’ll meet in front of this room.”

As if his body was being piloted by someone other than himself, Lance managed to move forward and climb the vines. His mind felt like it was miles away from where he was in this moment, shouting with a hoarse voice to get his attention to no avail. Breathing was the only concentrated effort he could stay aware of.

* * *

The journey out of the temple and back to Woodfall passed in a forgettable blur. No one in the group was entirely cognizant of what was occurring in the world around them aside from Bael who remained what grounded them to this reality. Kuthro dangled from his back; displaying his own mangled backside that none of them could bear to look at.

Juji walked alongside Lance once they retrieved him and had remained silent since being told about his older brother’s demise. The young prince reached for Lance’s hand and he held it tightly all the way until the first ray of sunlight touched their faces.

Outside, throngs of deku waited for their return with a cacophony of whispers erupting once they surfaced. As soon as the queen laid eyes upon her children she broke away from the group, sprinting as fast as her short legs could carry her across the wooden bridge. She scooped Joji up in her arms, placing a multitude of kisses over his entire face but he could not muster the enthusiasm to smile at her embrace.

After several minutes of standing there unable to move while dreading what was to come, the queen looked up at Bael and even spared a kind glance for Lance as well. “Thank you for rescuing Juji from that horrible creature. Please, let us tend to your wounds posthaste. My dear boy” -Queen Euphorbia reached her hand up to stroke Kuthro’s cheek before recoiling in shock- “what’s wrong with my son? Bael, why does he look so lifeless?”

Her pupils dilated as she stared intensely at Bael hanging for dear life on whatever the next words to come out of his mouth would be. He struggled to find the right thing to say with his jaw hanging agape.

“He fought bravely against Odolwa to help save Prince Juji, but it was a fight that cost him his life. I’m sorry Your Majesty, there was nothing we could do,” Bael answered while averting eye contact.

The queen’s howl of sorrow was a sound Lance would never forget for the rest of his days. It was deep and undignified with Her Majesty casting aside all of her dignity and poise. She lunged at her son’s corpse, pulling him off of Bael pushing him away in the process. Awkwardly the men and fairy stood away from the mourning mother with no sentiments to offer her.

Bael pulled at Lance’s elbow urging him to follow him as they skirted around her. Juji’s hand slipped from Lance’s and when he looked back to see the prince he looked up with confused and hurt eyes. It was too painful to see so he turned forward once again to follow Bael’s lead.

“Where are you going?” Her Majesty croaked while looking at Bael with eyes full of accusations and mistrust.

“We can’t stay. I learned what I needed to and there is urgent business that requires my attention elsewhere. I’m sorry Your Majesty, but I’ve already paid my respects and must be on my way.”

“To think all these years I’ve considered you a friend to my people and I. It goes to show that no matter how little human you have in you the selfishness of that heritage cannot be washed away. Begone, Master Bael.”

With her bitter farewell the group slipped through the throng of grieving deku uninterrupted. Neither of them dared to look back for fear of confirming the hatred they would find in their eyes. They traveled alone to the nearly empty palace to retrieve Oberon. Solemnly they departed the Kingdom of the Deku on horseback as Bael bid them to return to the woods.

* * *

They rode in silence with only the ambiance of the forest to fill the air. It was the longest time Lance had been around Bael where the other man was stoically silent with not a joke or a quip to offer. Nyx fluttered between them combatting her own anxiety for the situation but unable to seek comfort from either of them.

There was so much on Lance’s mind that he wanted to say. He wanted to celebrate their defeat of Odolwa and ask for Bael’s help recovering the toadstools in the forest. Questions about what Odolwa meant by referring to ‘we’ and what Queen Euphorbia meant when she called Bael partially human. Every time he thought to open his mouth his voice could not escape his throat. Memories of the Deku family and how they looked to see the loss of one of their own assaulted his mind at every turn. The pain was overwhelming and he was on his own to process all of it.

When the group arrived at the edge of the woods Bael thumped Lance in the back to get his attention. He promptly reined in Oberon who whinnied at the abrupt stop. Bael slipped off the back of the horse then began to pick up branches off the ground.

“Twilight is upon us so we’ll camp here for the evening. We don’t want to be alone in the forest after dark,” Bael ordered in a serious tone.

Lance recalled that two nights prior Bael had run through the night to his home to be there when he woke up. Bael wasn’t afraid of being alone in the dark, but afraid of what the things in the dark would do to Lance. That familiar twinge of being a burden pulled in his chest once more.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Nyx, show him where to forage for food but don’t go too far.” Bael never raised his head to look at Lance and he frowned at this emotional rift that was forming between them after making good progress towards at least being amicable.

Nyx flew by him and led him to an assortment of spots where wild edible plants grew. Several fallen logs were covered in an overgrowth of fungi where Nyx indicated which ones were edible and which ones were deadly to consume. Many trees in the area were rich with nuts and berries as well - to the point where Lance was becoming overloaded with food. He flipped the end of his shirt up to make an impromptu basket and returned to camp with his findings. Typically he would have been appalled to do something of that nature but with his current outfit covered in blood and sweat he found vanity a moot point.

Bael had prepared a small campfire for them in the brief time they were gone. Lance was also surprised to see he’d taken the time to arrange some leaves for two makeshift beds on opposite sides of the fire. It amazed him how self-sufficient the other man clearly was capable of being, but at the same time there was a loneliness attached to that independence that Lance pitied him for.

After divvying up the food, each took their place on their respective sides of the fire to eat in continued silence. When their meals were finished Bael prepared for laying down by removing his clothes down to his undergarments, which appeared to be nothing more than an old pair of threadbare cotton drawers. He rang them out for what sweat and blood had yet to dry then laid them in front of the fire close enough to dry. Lance followed suit but only when he felt Bael wouldn’t be looking at him. Then they both lay on their leaf beds where, despite their fatigue, not a wink of sleep was to be had.

It was approximately an hour later that Lance attempted sleep with his eyes shut tight; the sounds of the crackling fire was the only thing grounding him to this world while his mind contemplated all of the mistakes he’d made leading up to this moment. After tossing and turning for more times than he could count enough was enough.

“Hey, Bael, are you awake?” Lance tried to ask just loud enough to be heard over the campfire. 

Silence was his response.

“Bael?”

“Sleep. You’ll need your rest for tomorrow.” Bael’s reply came roughly, exhausted, but with just a faint undercurrent of relief beneath all of that. This encouraged Lance to continue.

“It feels really awful of me to say so, but I think what I regret the most about all of this was the fact he died before I could show him I wasn’t just another stupid human. That’s really selfish of me, isn’t it?”

Bael didn’t reply, but Lance could hear him roll over and saw his eyes looking across at him through the fire.

“He was a person with his own hopes and dreams, but all I can think about is the stupid things I said and how I can’t ever take them back now. I still wish I could wind it all back and let him live, but also I just want another chance at trying to relate to him. He was a nice person and I’d never met a deku scrub before. I wish we could have been friends,” Lance explained with woeful eyes.

Bael squinted at him with a befuddled face. Lance blinked in response to such a peculiar expression having expected a neutral response or at the worst something mocking from the mysterious man of the woods. His confusion only managed to confuse Lance in return.

“Why are you telling me all of that?” Bael did not ask in a unkind way as one might do when they are expressing contempt for someone who is trying to become close to you. His question was more akin to someone who never expected another soul to be forthright with him about their emotions. At least, this was all what Lance told himself to prevent his mind from retreating inward for daring to be so bold.

“Who else do I have to talk to about all of this but you?” Lance leaned up to sit upright, no longer content to pretend sleep was just a few blinks away. “You’re kind of the only person I have right now that understands what I’m going through. I know you begrudge having to take care of me all the time, but the least we can do is be open with each other about what we’re feeling.”

Bael scoffed. “I don’t begrudge, so don’t make up things about me in your head,” he retorted. A hint of his usual sneer was reappearing in his voice but it was still faint. “You don’t know me that well, is the thing. We’re still basically strangers.”

“And we’ll continue to be strangers unless we, you know, open up. That’s all I’m saying.”

“That’s all it takes? You just make the cognitive decision to be emotionally open with another person and so long as that happens you’re friends?” Once again his questions would sound dismissive from any other person in the world but from Bael they reminded Lance of a small child learning about playing with children his own age for the first time.

“I’ve never heard it put that way before, but in a way yes? Friendship is complicated and is rarely planned. It just happens.” Lance attempted to explain but felt as if what he was saying was just further muddying the issue.

“So you want to be my friend?”

To Lance’s surprise Bael’s eyes widened and under the illumination of the fire appeared to glimmer under the night sky. He was taken aback by this wholly pure expression so much so he had to avert his eyes from Bael’s gaze.

“I mean, I guess? I think being friends would be better than just riding out this ‘forced cooperation’ as you so kindly put it before.” Lance’s eyes roamed everywhere they possibly could without looking across the way to Bael. Anxiously his thumbs twiddled in his lap.

Bael sprang up to match Lance’s sitting position which, from the sudden motion, Lance’s eyes immediately landed on Bael who had a childlike glee in his eyes. “Nobody has ever wanted to be my friend before.”

Lance sputtered, finding that response difficult to believe. “Nyx follows you around everywhere you go, how could you say that about her?”

“Nyx is more like my older sister. We’re friends by being family.”

Older, really? He didn’t have time to get into that when he could feel they were getting somewhere finally. “Aren’t you and the queen friends?”

“Can you really be friends with people that idolize you? None of them have ever really been interested in Bael the person, just Bael, Lord of the Woods.”

“How did you get a title like that?” Lance couldn’t help himself; it was something he’d been desperately wanting to know since he met the deku and this was probably the best opportunity he was going to get for a while.

Bael shrugged. “I’m an inhuman being who makes his home in the Woods of Mystery and works with the fairies. Who I am is anything but normal so they took it upon themselves to revere me. Sorry it’s not a more interesting story than that,” he apologized with that familiar sarcastic smile Lance had noticed himself missing the last few hours.

He was tempted to ask into his statements of being ‘inhuman’ after the multitude of times he heard today of people referring to Bael as a partial human. Lance did remember, however, the last time he tried to ask about Bael’s heritage and was on the receiving end of the other’s fury because of it. It wasn’t an experience he was eager to repeat.

“So I’m the first one, huh?” Lance asked after a brief pause.

“It would seem so”-Bael’s knees drew up into his chest hiding a soft smile behind his knees-“I’ve always wanted to make a friend on my own. I never imagined someone would actually be asking me.”

“I’m sure if you didn’t isolate yourself you would make lots of friends in Clock Town. I’m pretty bad at it too, but still have managed to make a handful of really close friends.”

Bael blinked then averted his eyes. Lance sat patiently in silence to give him time.

“I have to stay in the woods. I don’t hide from the world because I think I’m better than it or whatever you might think,” he finished, offering no interest in further explaining himself.

“Now look who’s insinuating what I think?” They both gave a small laugh which helped to lessen the weight of today on their shoulders. “Well maybe when we fix all of this crazy stuff you won’t have to anymore,” Lance offered kindly.

Bael only shook his head, a response that Lance expected but hoped he would not get. “The offer will always stand, regardless.”

Their eyes connected once more and the pure kind warmth in Bael’s look shook Lance down to his core. He couldn’t recall a time in his life where someone looked at him with such adoration. It was an expression he had given to several people in his life that had one point or other in time meant the world to him, but nothing he had ever knowingly received. His breath hitched in response.

“Thank you, Lance. You’re a kind man.”

There was something in that statement that made Lance’s heart flutter. Was it the gratitude? Acknowledgement of his consideration? Or was it Bael just simply referring to him as a man and not as a mere child? As he contemplated this Bael fell back down onto the leaves with a sigh.

“I guess I should be open too as that would only be fair,” he paused to take another sigh. “You’re not selfish for thinking all of that about someone you didn’t know, the fact you care at all is admirable.”

Lance nodded as he laid back down as well. He stared with rapt attention to drink in every word that Bael would offer him as he began to crack open the shell encased around his heart.

“I knew Kuthro for almost as long as his mother. I watched him grow up from a child to the cusp of adulthood. Yet I had to watch him die protecting me because I was a fool, as usual”-his teeth clenched into a grimace-“I had to try to do everything on my own. If I’d swallowed my pride, maybe things would have turned out differently.”

“It’s like you told me, knowledge of the future does not guarantee we can fix the past. As easy as it sounds to me at this point to just start all over, I know that’s the wrong thing to do. I don’t want to think of death so flippantly.”

“We’ll have to live with these regrets for the rest of our lives because Kuthro doesn’t get to. I’m glad we can talk about it openly, it does help,” Bael finished as his voice grew softer from exhaustion.

Eventually Lance succumbed to sleep, that last statement from Bael the last thing he remembered before rolling over and drifting off.

* * *

Bael stared up at the night sky as he listened to the croon of nightlife stirring during the late hour. The light of the fire was beginning to die down and the only illumination left allowing him to see was the dim glow from Nyx dozing beside him.

“Lance, are you asleep?” Bael whispered, but was met with soft snores coming from the other side of the fire. Pleased with this knowledge, Bael rolled over as well to face away into the darkness.

The tears he’d been holding back were finally able to flow freely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slowly but surely they will open up to each other. It may be reluctantly for a time :P
> 
> As always thank you for continuing to read along! If you would please comment with what you like or what I might be able to do to improve.


	10. When It Rains, It Pours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for posting this one so late in the evening! Hope you all enjoy :)

As dawn began to peek through the canopy of the woods, droplets of water hopped from leaf to leaf until they landed on Lance’s unsuspecting face. With his head now dampened he shot up in surprise to be greeted with the percussion of a rain shower. Normally this would have been a recipe for a terrible morning, but Lance was grateful for the moisture on his skin after days of wearing the same clothes and no bathing. His fingers combed through his tousled mane to pry out the unwanted tangles and twigs.

He stood up, still partially in a daze, to find a tree with which to conceal himself while taking a morning leak. As he walked towards his destination he caught a glimpse of Bael, who appeared all too comfortable in his natural element. His long white hair was let free from its usual hair tie and reached down to the middle of his backside. Under one arm he carried their once dirty clothes which now appeared freshly scrubbed free of the bloody stains. In his other hand he clutched his spear sporting a pair of fish skewered by the point.

Lance’s gaze averted when he grew closer and Lance noticed just how underdressed he was. Stripped down even further from the pants he wore previously Bael was now parading around in a loincloth fashioned out of one of their shirts. The only clothing he managed to keep on otherwise was the glove he always wore on his right hand. Beforehand it didn’t seem out of place, but choosing to wear only that when otherwise essentially nude struck Lance as odd.

Whatever, he had to pee. Bael would tell him in time; the walls between them were coming down. Lance was optimistic about this fact.

Upon his return from relieving himself he was greeted with the tantalizing aroma of roasting fish. His mouth salivated in anticipation of eating something that wasn’t just nuts or fruit for the first time in a few days. On his bed from the previous night his outfit was displayed neatly folded and awaiting his return.

“Good morning,” Bael greeted from his position of squatting next to the stoked fire, protecting it from the rain with a wide leaf.

“How long have you been awake?” Lance asked while busy getting dressed in the still partly damp clothes.

“Hm, a few hours maybe. I don’t sleep much, don’t worry about me.”

Lance recalled a conversation from a forgotten time that echoed the same sentiment. He frowned, but pressed no further on the matter.

“Is that typically how you dress when you’re on your own?”

Bael looked down at his lap then back up with a perked eyebrow. “My apologies, is the visage of a man in peak physical condition too much for your young eyes?” He sneered with a cocky smile.

Lance clicked his tongue. “More so that you look like someone robbed you of your pants.”

“I didn’t want to get my pants wet, alright? Normally I would just go without but I didn’t want to offend your gentlemanly sensibilities,” Bael retorted before sticking out his tongue.

“My sensibilities and I thank you, Lord Bael,” Lance countered in the most proper accent he could muster.

They held a stiff silence between them before both erupted into uproarious laughter. This persisted for nearly a minute before they were interrupted by a new and unexpected voice.

“Pardon me, Master Bael? And, um-”

Both turned to see that it was none other than Prince Juji walking towards their camp. The young prince was dressed in a dark colored floral outfit that was in stark contrast to all of the outfits he’d seen the royals wear previously. It could only be assumed this was typical mourning attire.

Lance noticed Juji’s eyes linger on him when he attempted to greet him. He smiled kindly in return. “My name is Lance, Your Highness.”

Prince Juji nodded graciously. “I came to express my gratitude for what you did for me. If it weren’t for you both I wouldn’t be standing here today.”

The three smiled in that distant, wistful sort of way. When there was plenty to be grateful for but the lurking knowledge of something terrible prevented any expression of joy from reaching the eyes. An empty silence aside from the gentle pitter-patter of rain filled the space between them. Despite it all, the world kept turning.

“My brother had a warrior’s spirit, you know.” Prince Juji broke the silence as he stared off into the forest depths. “He was as strong as any of our soldiers, and the idea of death in combat appealed to him.”

Prince Juji shook his head, the ornaments dangling from his head jingling pleasantly in contrast to the atmosphere. “It doesn’t make it anymore right that he’s gone, but wherever he is now he’s proud of his choices. That’s what I like to believe.”

He turned to look at them both with his eyes partially closed and his snout twisted to hold back his misery. “None of us blame you, Master Bael. I hope you’ll continue being a friend to my mother and I.”

Bael nodded slowly, his face unable to move from staring at the small deku. He was barely larger than a human child but spoke with a heartfelt eloquence that touched Lance deeply.

The young prince turned his back to them and lifted his head up to the sky, allowing the moisture to cascade down his face. “A lovely day for rain, isn’t it? I must be off, the funeral will begin soon. Take care Master Bael, Lance. I don’t know what sort of journey you’re on but I’m certain it’s for the sake of us all.”

As quickly as he came he departed, leaving a heavy cloud of gloom in his wake.

* * *

They finished their meal quickly in relative silence as the rain persisted. Once finished with his fish, Lance stood up to tend to Oberon. After he was watered at the nearby pond he began tacking up his horse in between the frequent pats to his side and words of encouragement.

Lance turned his head to find Bael was now fully dressed and ensuring the fire was completely snuffed out. Perfect timing, if he were to say so himself. “Since we investigated the Woodfall Temple and dealt with Odolwa, I was hoping now you might help me with what I originally came to the woods to get.”

“You’re after the King’s Bane toadstools, I believe I remember you bringing it up,” Bael replied as he tied his hair into a loose ponytail.

“That’s what they’re called? Regardless, yes I’m looking for them and you’re the only person I know that can help me.”

“Maybe another time. We need to be on our way back to the grove while I try to figure out where we go next,” Bael dismissed as he began to walk in Lance’s direction.

“Wait, go back there? Bael, my family hasn’t seen me in three days and they have no idea if I’m alive. At the very least I need to go back there and tell them, not to mention a shower and fresh clothes would do the both of us a world of good,” Lance huffed with his eyebrows furrowing in irritation.

“I said we’re going back. It’s not up for debate, Lance,” Bael ordered as he attempted to reach for Oberon’s reins but Lance snatched them away beforehand.

Lance quickly swung his leg up into the stirrups and mounted his horse in a smooth motion. Bael was glaring up at him with a hostile stare. As he directed Oberon to turn around and move in the other direction Bael was moving towards the horse’s side in a hurried attempt to climb up the saddle.

“What are you doing? Let go of me!” Lance barked as he tried to shake Bael’s grasps at his leg.

“What am I doing? What are you doing?”

While Lance had the upper hand of already being mounted in the saddle he was once again at the mercy of Bael’s unrelenting strength. Luckily due to the rain slickening every surface his attempts at seeking purchase with his hands were becoming futile.

“Bael, let him go!” Nyx shouted, surprising the both of them into stillness.

The noise however had the opposite effect on Oberon who was already tense from the struggle between the two of them. Instinctively the horse began to buck and kick, which nearly unseated Lance and knocked Bael off entirely.

As Bael picked himself up out of the muck, Lance had already taken off on the frightened Oberon.

“Wait! You can’t leave me!” Bael’s cry echoed on the rock walls as he sped out of the Southern Swamp, heading in the direction of Termina Field.

At first Lance was puzzled by the sorrow in Bael’s voice, but once he noticed that Nyx was flying alongside him as he fled he understood the pain the other man felt in that moment. It didn’t stop either of them as they wordlessly rounded the corner to see the walls of Clock Town rising on the horizon. Bael would be in hot pursuit, of that he had no doubt.

* * *

Lance made an abrupt decision to divert his course from Clock Town to head westward in the direction of Milk Road. Once he felt they were out of sight from the open field and there was no indication of anyone trailing behind, Lance slowed the horse’s gait to a trot. He allowed himself to unclench his jaw that he’d unknowingly been holding tight as his body slowly relaxed.

“Why are we going this way?” Nyx asked between pants, having exerted herself to keep up with Oberon’s gallop.

“He’s going to find me very quickly if I just go home, so I’m stopping by to see a friend. Better question, why did you follow me to begin with?”

Nyx persisted in silence for a long moment. “I think you’re both acting incredibly stupid, but Bael is the worst of you two right now. He understands actions more than he has ever understood words. Besides, I want to keep an eye on you just as much as he does.”

“Why am I stupid? He’s the one commanding me like a child. It’s well within my right to leave and see my family,” Lance huffed.

He couldn’t see her face because of the luminescence surrounding her body, but the indignant sound she made when she spun around said all he needed to hear of her irritation with him.

“Typical men,” she stated with finality.

Lance’s nose crinkled and his eyebrows furrowed at her, but he only responded with an exasperated sigh. They were passing under the archway leading to Romani Ranch and there was no time to debate intelligence and stereotypes with a supernatural being.

Unlike the time he was here before (except that time no longer existed in this reality) the farmers working were not tending to the typical chores one would expect to see. Many of the employees were busy making repairs to all of the stables and coops while others were sharpening tools. Lance recalled them doing this every year near the time of the carnival; this was another confirmation of its impending arrival.

Majority of the people ignored him as he made his way in. Nyx, at Lance’s abrupt request, hid herself within the locks of his hair so as to not draw unwanted questions. He was beginning to wonder if that was even necessary given the level of focus everyone was putting forth to prepare for Them.

As he arrived at the owner’s estate his eyes lit up when they deigned upon Aryn, who was assisting a farmhand while they reinforced the windows of the home. She didn’t notice him on his arrival, which urged Lance to quickly dismount and secure Oberon to a post to greet her in earnest.

Eventually his approaching footsteps alerted her to his presence and she spun around, long burgundy tresses framing her sun-kissed face. Her kind eyes widened as she quickly stepped into his awaiting arms, hugging her tight and threatening to never let go.

She giggled with her face burrowed into his chest, nuzzling into his embrace before pulling back to breathe. “I didn’t know you were coming by today or I would have made sure to be wearing something more presentable,” she said with a wry smile.

An unseen knife twisted in his back, his eyes screwing shut from the painful reminders of a lost memory. Tenderly he pressed a kiss to the top of her head that was damp from the rain. “I was overcome with the need to see you, Aryn. There’s something I need to tell you but it would best be done in privacy.”

She looked up at him, perplexed by his serious request but never one to deny her best friend. Pulling him by the wrist, she brought him into her home that reminded him of happier times in his life. Just as in the previous time, none of her family members paid them any mind as she escorted him up to her bedroom and closed the door behind them.

Quickly she began to undress from her work clothes and Lance silently averted his eyes. He excused himself to use her lavatory and returned shortly after drying off with a towel.

“I didn’t realize it before because of the rain, but Lance you look like shit,” she commented now outfitted in a simple white blouse paired with a long grass green skirt.

“And you smell like shit,” he returned while sticking out his tongue.

She returned the gesture in kind but soon her face became concerned once more. “You look like you’ve not been sleeping properly and your clothes have seen better days.”

Despite Bael having scrubbed them there were still faint traces of the stains that were once there. At the very least it wasn’t obviously blood anymore.

“That’s all pretty accurate actually, I’m afraid to say. I came here less to talk and more to hide, actually,” he admitted sheepishly.

Aryn’s eyes squinted in suspicion. “Did you fight with your dad again?”

“If only it were that simple. I’ve actually not been home for three days.”

Her eyes widened at this explanation. “Three days!? Where have you been?” Though Aryn had been seated previously she was now partially raised up on the balls of her feet leaning forward.

Lance had to concoct a lie and quickly, there was absolutely no way he could explain to her what was truly going on. This Aryn didn’t even know about the ‘dreams’ he’d been having, he couldn’t just spring that he was having a life changing adventure right now.

“I took off to travel the countryside as a sort of last hurrah to my youth, I suppose,” -he now moved to sit down at the nook alongside her window- “I’ve been traveling with someone I met recently.”

“Who?” What she was doing couldn’t be considered sitting anymore; her hands were now planted on her bedside table as she leaned forward staring him down intently.

“You don’t know him, and it doesn’t really matter. We had a fight this morning, if you can call it that. I just need to lay low here for a while since I’m sure he’s looking for me.”

“Oh my goodness. Lance, you can’t be serious.”

“What?”

“When were you going to tell me you had a boyfriend?” Her eyes were widened with excitement as her mouth spread into a delighted grin.

Lance’s head jerked backwards and he sputtered as he spoke, “Seriously Aryn? That’s the conclusion you’re going to jump to?”

“Oh come on you can’t tell me what you just said doesn’t sound like you had a fight with a boyfriend. Whose fault was it? Was it yours? Did you do that thing you always do where you overthink everything instead of just listening to what the other person is trying to say? Oh my gosh Lance you have to tell me everything this is like a dream come true for me.”

He shot her an unamused look, but she was not about to back down on the matter. “First of all, no, it was not my fault. It was his for being bossy.”

She clicked her tongue. “I would have taken you for being the type to like bossy.”

“Aryn, please,” he pleaded as his face fell into his hands.

“Okay, okay, so he’s a jackass it sounds like. Forgive me for getting excited about my best friend finally having a relationship I can talk to him about,” Aryn said with a pout as she returned to her seat on her bed.

“I promise you, when that day comes you’ll get sick of hearing me talk about it. This isn’t that time. He’s just a friend, I think,” Lance replied with uncertainty. He’d been so optimistic about Bael opening up to him just the previous night, but now it felt like they’d taken one step forward and a dozen backwards.

Aryn pursed her lips before sighing. “Fine. Regardless, you should probably go home soon so everyone knows you’re safe.”

“I’m going to, but he knows where I live. This is the only place I knew to come to.”

She smiled softly at him in that way she always had since they were little kids. “You can stay here as long as you like. Wedding or not this is always your home too so long as I’m around.”

He returned her smile and was opening his mouth to thank her before they were interrupted by the sound of a loud bang that echoed across the farm.

It sounded like a shotgun blast from somewhere near the house.

Aryn yelped before shuffling backwards on her bed until her back pressed against the wall. Lance peered outside the window he was sitting in front of to try and get a glimpse of what was causing the ruckus. Out in the distance Lance could see that it was Mr. Romani, Aryn’s father, holding the shotgun. He breathed a sigh of relief then immediately sucked the air back in with a gasp as he saw the object of Mr. Romani’s anger.

It was Bael, who was sprinting headlong across the field swinging his head from side to side all too clearly searching for something. At first Lance pulled away to hide but he became too worried that Bael was going to wind up getting shot to pull his eyes away from the sight. With his focus on Bael, Lance watched as he ran into the large barn close by that housed many of the farm’s cows.

The farmers ran in after him and Lance was unable to see what was happening. This heightened his worries for the other man to a fever pitch.

“What’s going on, Lance?” Aryn whispered, having not moved an inch from the wall she pressed against.

“Your dad is trying to kill my friend,” he responded flatly, unable to peel his focus away to respond properly.

“He’s what?” Aryn sprang up from her bed to push him over enough so that she could also watch out the window.

“They went into the barn- oh! He’s climbing out of the window from the hay loft,” Lance pointed, happy to see Bael seemed unscathed.

“It looks like he’s running towards the house now,” Aryn commented, having been drawn into the excitement of the moment.

“Oh no.” Lance had forgotten to conceal himself in all of the commotion. It didn’t take very long as Bael approached the house for him to look up at the window they were watching out of. He locked eyes with Lance before mouthing words they could not hear.

It looked like something to the effect of “I found you, you son of a bitch.”

In an instant Lance was recoiling from the window and running towards the bathroom. In his frantic state he ended up tripping on a discarded piece of clothing and tumbled to the ground in a heap. The sounds of Bael climbing up the side of the house sent him into a panicked state.

“Lance, what do I do? He-he’s climbing up to the window,” Aryn commented as she was still looking out the window, unshaken by Bael’s ferocity.

“Let him in, otherwise your father is going to shoot him if he sees him,” Lance replied with a defeated sigh. Resolute to his fate, he rolled over and sat up on the floor to await the argument that was sure to follow.

Aryn quickly opened the window and swung it open. Without a word Bael clambered in as she latched it behind him. 

His blue eyes stared down at him with furious intent.

Lance met his gaze with his attempt at equal intensity. As a passive person it was difficult to maintain, but he was adamant on standing his ground.

Still yet Bael said nothing to him, which only made Lance’s heart race faster as the anticipation built up to however he would lash out at him.

Bael stepped forward, water dripping from his clothes all over the floor. His entire body was covered in the remnants of mud that he was dropped in when Oberon flung him off. Mirroring Lance, he sat down on the floor in front of him with their crossed legs mere inches from contact. His breathing was heavy; Lance could only imagine how long he had been running all over the place looking for him.

Lance’s eyes closed tight, ready to accept whatever reprimand was coming his way. He was surprised when it was something he felt rather than heard.

With a sharp thwap Bael flicked him in the forehead so hard it stung. Lance’s eyes flew open as his hand reached up to press his palm onto the irritated skin.

“Stupid, why’d you run off like that?” Bael’s face was one of perplexion, not of rage.

“Why do you think? You were being a jerk and I wanted to go home,” Lance answered with a wince.

“You didn’t even go home. I found you here hanging out with some girl.”

“Aryn, her name is Aryn. She’s not just some girl, she’s my best friend. I hid here because you know where I live and I was trying to get away from you.”

Bael shifted uncomfortably but the intensity of his eyes locking with Lance’s never let up for a moment. “Well it didn’t work and now I found you. We’re going back now so stop fighting me.”

Aryn by this point had returned to sitting on her bed with her focus split between the two men. “Easy now, you won’t ever sort out your differences if you aren’t able to hear each other out.”

“This isn’t your concern, so kindly butt out of it will ya?” Bael snarled with his eyes still locked on Lance.

“Hey, you don’t get to talk to her like that you insufferable child,” Lance returned with enough venom to match Bael’s. Being rude to him was one thing, but Aryn was another matter entirely.

“Lance, it’s fine, really,” Aryn pleaded. She was visibly shaken by his aggression and doing a poor job of hiding it.

“I’m the insufferable child? Look who's talking! For the first time in your life you probably have someone who isn’t bowing to your whims or kissing your ass, so what happens the first time you get into a disagreement? You run away. Yeah, real mature.”

“Bael! Shut up, just shut up already!”

Nyx finally revealed herself from her hiding place. Her voice was a tiny, harsh whisper, yet still it managed to cow Bael into immediate silence.

“You were so excited to finally have someone befriend you, but you have a terrible understanding of how human friendship works,” Nyx reprimanded, all the while bashing her body aggressively into Bael’s head. “Just tell him why you’re so insistent on going home, you stupid, stupid man.”

Bael’s head turned downward as he quietly accepted Nyx’s rage. Eventually she tired of being angry and allowed herself to rest atop his head.

“Is something bad going to happen? Is that why you want to go back?” Guilt sank like a rock into the pit of Lance’s stomach. He would feel terrible for the rest of his days if his running away caused Bael to be unable to protect his home.

“No,” Bael answered bluntly. His eyes warily shifted to the side in the direction of Aryn before returning to Lance. “I don’t want to talk about it here. If I tell you, will you go back with me?” Bael’s face shifted from shame to one of vulnerability.

Lance dryly swallowed, suddenly uncomfortable with the desperation in his voice. Aryn’s words from earlier rang out in his mind; reminding him that he did overthink things without considering the other side. His desire for Bael’s camaraderie rekindled. He may just have to be the bigger person for a time until Bael fully opened up to him.

“Of course I will. That’s what friends are for, right?”

Bael smiled with eyes widened in admiration, causing Lance’s heart to skip a beat.

Lance had to pull himself out of the fog filling his head to look over at Aryn who was staring at them with pure wonderment. “Aryn, do you have something I can put over him to sneak him out of here? Oh, and can you distract your family downstairs too?”

“Huh, what? Oh!” She sprang up immediately and marched over to her closet to dig around for a suitable article of clothing. Eventually she pulled out a large green cloak and held it up for approval. It would do just fine.

Lance stood up to see her out the door while Bael occupied himself with getting the cloak on properly. Before opening the door she turned to look up at Lance with a concerned expression.

“Are you going to be okay?” she whispered just loud enough for him to hear.

“I think I’ll be alright now. He’s a bit, well, immature to say the least. But he’s also a good person, that much I do know,” Lance added, just as much for her as it was for himself.

Aryn nodded. “If that changes don’t ever hesitate to tell me. Papa doesn’t miss twice with his shotgun, I’ll have you know.”

They shared a chuckle and a brief hug before Aryn disappeared out the door.

Lance turned around to face Bael who was comically shrouded by the vast size of the cloak. He had to stifle a laugh just looking at him. “While she’s busy distracting them, can you tell me now what’s on your mind?”

Bael shuffled uneasily, which as he was dressed now just made him appear to sway from side to side. “It will make more sense when I show you, otherwise I don’t think you’ll believe me.”

“After everything so far? Try me.”

“There’s something imprisoned in the grove that I am the guardian of. It’s the reason why I try to divert your attention away from the King’s Bane. It’s not the cure you’re looking for.”

“You’re the third person to tell me that but no one will ever explain why. It’s infuriating, to say the least. Until I find a better alternative, it’s my only chance of helping my mother.”

“I will explain in due time, I promise you that.”

Their discussion ended after that. Lance peered out of the cracked doorway to see that Aryn had lured her family away to another portion of the house and the path to the doorway was unoccupied. Quietly he ushered Bael through the house and outside the door to Oberon who looked up expectantly when Lance approached.

Off in the distance near the barn he could see that the hunt for Bael was still on as the search party fanned out in a multitude of directions. To avoid crossing paths with one of them Lance spurred Oberon into a gallop once they were comfortably seated in the saddle. Much to Lance’s dismay, Bael was seated in front of him with Lance’s chin pressed on top of his head due to how closely they were pressed together. It was all in the effort of masking Bael’s getaway, he repeatedly reminded himself as the heat from Bael’s body seeped into his skin.

With Romani Ranch only a memory behind them and the skies clear and blue, they sped off in the heat of day towards the Southern Swamp. Lance shuddered with anticipation at the thought of what he might learn once they returned to the woods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boys, huh?
> 
> Once again I'm going to plug the blog I've created for the fic where I'm posting some extra things that I can't include with the fic. So far there's some artistic renditions of the main characters as well as an ever growing playlist of songs inspired by the story.
> 
> likethegearsofaclock.tumblr.com


	11. The Things We Carry

The journey through the woods passed by in an instant. At least that’s how it felt as Lance faded in and out of consciousness. His own worries kept gnawing at the back of his mind as he tried to focus and allow himself to believe in Bael. A sense of déjà vu was all too prevalent as a silent figure led him into the depths of the forest.

Before he knew it Bael was snapping his fingers at him, and they were standing in the heart of the grove with an audience of fairies and imps peering up at their returning human visitor. Lance flinched as the noise alarmed him into an alert state, but quickly followed after him as he was already about to be left behind.

Bael escorted (though it felt more like he was being lured) Lance to a ramshackle building at the opposite end of the grove that he had not been permitted to see during his previous visit. As they approached the number of the audience members drifted away until eventually they were just the lone three. Lance noticed Nyx was beginning to shiver which did wonders for his paranoia at this moment.

“Stay here. I need to make sure that it’s safe inside,” Bael commanded in a whisper.

With a nod Lance became rooted to the spot with Nyx staying right by his side. Bael entered the dilapidated hut all on his own, disappearing out of sight. At first he was stricken by the eerie silence that came from within, then the bone chilling groans that emitted from the inner chamber sank his stomach down to the forest floor.

Nyx placed herself closer to Lance, nuzzling against his face as her tiny body continued to tremble. He gently cupped her entirety with his palm and her movements became more spaced out. A soft sigh escaped her lips.

“Thank you, by the way,” Lance spoke softly, so much that he could barely hear his own words.

“What’s that for?” Nyx answered back with an uncertain lilt in her voice.

“For being the mature one that bashes her level headedness on others who aren’t so prone to acknowledging their shortcomings.”

She tutted before giving a small wiggle against his hand. “I appreciate you being forthright in admitting to it, at the very least.”

“Admitting it isn’t something you’re accustomed to, I take it?”

“Goodness no. You’ve been around him long enough now; you can see what he’s like,” she answered with a small laugh.

“You’re his older sister, right? I believe that’s what he told me.”

“In a roundabout way I suppose it’s the best way to describe our relationship.”

“I wanted to ask you something related to that.” Lance’s weight shifted from foot to foot as his mind deliberated on if speaking what was on his mind would be inconsiderate. It was his best chance with him being rarely alone with Nyx in a calm moment. “Is Bael really a fairy? Or is he something else?”

Nyx’s movements paused, causing Lance to mentally curse as he believed himself to overstep his boundaries. The howls from within the building only added to his building unease.

“He never said he was, that was only your assumption. You know he looks more like you than myself, I’m certain.”

Lance nodded, his Adam's apple bobbing as he dryly swallowed.

“Bael is something in between. I would tell you more, but it’s not my place to do so. With time, I’m sure you will be able to ask again.”

The sound of rattling chains shook the two of them out of their conversation, both uttering a small gasp at the sudden noise. Bael’s heavy footsteps were making their way back outside.

“Please, Lance, continue to be there for him,” Nyx meekly cried right before Bael’s face resurfaced from the darkness.

“It’s safe, you can come in now. Be quiet and don’t make any sudden movements, okay?” Bael did not command him as he usually did. This was the request of someone who was pleading for cooperation. His startling blue eyes stared at Lance, vulnerable, and not at all confident in revealing his secrets. Lance was at the mercy of this look. To defy him was to shatter his faith, not only in him, but in any person whom he might dare to trust.

Lance nodded, and with great trepidation followed after Bael into the dark unknown. Nyx stayed behind, leaving them in total darkness. Chains raked across the rotten wood flooring, an inhuman growl rooting Lance to the spot. Slowly his eyes acclimated to the darkness, revealing to him the truth of the horrific sight.

Peering back at him from the darkness were two pairs of blood-red eyes, unnatural in their glow. They were connected to pitch black sockets on a stark white face. Putrid teeth shined with sickening yellow, chattering as they looked up at Lance. The silhouettes were of humanoid shape, but their bodies were what remained once tissue and muscle had long since rotted away.

“W-what are these things?” Lance whispered, maintaining eye contact with the larger of the creatures.

At the sound of his voice the creatures lunged forward, held back only by the strength of the chains tying them to the floor. They howled, their bodies rattling as they slammed their limbs on the wooden planks. Lance took a step back as he recoiled in fear, instincts screaming at him to run away in terror. He wouldn’t, no, he couldn’t do that. When he remembered Bael’s face, the idea of betraying his faith caused his chest to clench in pain.

“They are stalfos. When humans become lost in the woods their humanity is stripped away from them,” Bael answered as he gently stepped forward within reach of the monsters. Kneeling down beside one of them, he raised a hand to caress it on the head. The monster appeared to croon into the touch, teeth still clacking with a howl. “I am the guardian of these two in particular.”

Lance’s jaw flapped, words escaping him as he came to terms with this knowledge. Growing up in Clock Town, most children would learn about the different peoples and beasts that existed in the world of Termina. Monsters were reserved for lessons at an older age, but they all still learned about them at some point. They were only taught that stalfos were dark fey that preyed on innocents in the darkness. This story about them having once been humans just like him was unheard of, but given that Bael was much closer to the issue than himself he was inclined to believe him. For now, at least.

“Why -er, rather- how did you come about a role such as that?” He stumbled over his words, a shiver running up each time their eyes glanced to look at him.

Bael hesitated, resolved to sit in silence while petting its skull for a few moments longer. “I found them, long ago. They had not been changed for long and begged me to save them. I swore I would.” He stood up from his position which elicited a guttural whine from the beast. With the tenderness of a caregiver he shushed the creature into silence.

“Is there a way to revert it?”

“Much like yourself, I too was enchanted by the notion of the mystical toadstool that can cure all afflictions. I fed some to them I found in the heart of the woods and” -his voice quivered as his eyes became distant, ushering Lance to leave the hut with him- “what little was left of their humanity left at that moment.”

Lance’s blood ran cold once he understood the weight of his words. Hurriedly, he followed after Bael who then sealed the opening behind them. He was greeted by Nyx who took turns nuzzling the both of them in kind, grateful for their return.

“Just because it didn’t help them doesn’t mean they can’t potentially save other people,” Lance spoke aloud to no one in particular. It was a declaration for himself more than anyone else.

Bael’s face crinkled in disappointment before letting out a sigh. “I knew you would feel that way. The very least I could do is try to dissuade you.”

“Even if you don’t help me, I’ll keep looking.”

His face turned downwards, jaw clenching and unclenching in a repeated movement. “I’ll help you, but only after we stop Dumah’s return. If he does, then it will be all for naught.”

Lance abruptly shot out his arm, holding it straight out in front of him. His chest puffed up with his shoulders squared, determination plastered on his face. “Shake on it then.”

Bael jolted, startled by this action, before throwing him a puzzled expression. “What?”

“It’s an agreement between men, so we shake on it. A promise between both of us to hold up our end of the deal.”

With great uncertainty Bael extended his hand and pressed his gloved hand against Lance’s exposed one. Instantly Lance clasped his fingers tightly around Bael’s held eliciting a yelp from the other man. Lance himself was startled by how frail it felt to hold his hand, having expected the rigid strength he was accustomed to.

It was awkward as could be, but a wave of ease washed over them as they shook hands in the middle of the forest. Their hands stayed together for longer before Lance jerked it away to run the same hand through his hair out of nervous habit.

“So, how about going to Clock Town now?”

Bael smiled with a nod.

* * *

Many hours later Lance was standing in a hot shower letting days of sweat and grime spiral down the drain. He was still reeling from the earful from Abi he’d gotten upon returning home. Luckily Bael took his previous route of climbing into Lance’s bedroom window, as that was not a conversation he was ready to have with her. His father was not home, which was to be expected, so once she was done reprimanding him for disappearing he was free to carry on about his business.

Once the water grew cold -all too soon for his liking- he stepped out of the shower and dried off. Typically, he would lounge in his room with just a towel around his waist, but with a guest in his room he opted for a bathrobe instead. When he entered the bedroom Bael was sitting on his bed, now dressed in an old outfit of Lance’s after getting clean himself. A simple long sleeve shirt and slacks was the most he was able to convince Bael to dress up in. It was much too large for his short and slender body, but it got the job done.

Lance took a seat next to him, but before he could say anything Bael was already reaching around to his side for an object he was obscuring. When he fully turned around to face him, Bael was holding a mask up to his face fashioned in the image of the sun. This caused Lance’s stomach to twist up in knots.

“Where’d you get this cool mask? Are you wearing it to the carnival?” Bael asked playfully, head swaying side to side.

Lance made a half-hearted attempt to snatch it away from him but Bael was too quick, dodging out of his reach. “Why do you have that? Were you snooping in my house while I showered?”

“Nope, it was on your dresser. You don’t strike me as the flashy type that wears a mask of the sun to the carnival.”

“It’s not a mask for the carnival. It’s my father’s wedding mask,” Lance replied in a somber tone.

Bael’s hands holding the mask dropped until it was resting in his lap, his eyes now focused on it intently. “Wedding mask? Who wears a mask to a wedding?”

Lance tried to look at his face to see if Bael was making a joke in poor taste but was surprised to see he was genuine. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever grow accustomed to how many basic things of their culture Bael just was not familiar with at all.

“There’s a bit of a story behind it, actually. Masks have always been worn, but they used to be unique designs crafted by the bride and groom themselves. Then a hundred years ago there was a famous couple who were nearly torn apart by a horrible curse. Despite what they went through, they were joined in holy matrimony on the day of the carnival wearing masks of the sun and moon. A lot of people are inspired by their story, so a sun and moon mask became the norm.”

Lance regaled the tale with a voice full of yearning. The idea of having a beautiful love story the likes of Kafei and Anju was a dream he’d long since held in his early teens. It was unfortunately a dream he’d long since shelved in the recesses of his heart.

Bael looked up at him with his face contorted in uncertainty, an expression Lance was becoming used to seeing more frequently by the day. “Why do you have it?”

“I guess Dad wants me to have it for when I get married,” he answered with a wistful smile.

Bael grew quiet, and Lance had no clue what he’d said that made him draw up in silence. Lance stood up to return the mask to his previous location on the dresser before turning around and clapping his hands together with a grin.

“How do you feel about meeting my mother?”

* * *

Bael’s reluctance to meet a new stranger was written all over his face, but Lance was able to persuade him with the pure joy he radiated when the subject of his mother came up. Lance left his home in fresh clothes feeling rejuvenated and with the weight of the world lessened off his shoulders. Bael met him a distance from his house with his body shrouded in the cloak given to him by Aryn, Nyx assuredly hidden away in the cowl as well.

When they arrived at the hospital and Lance listened briefly outside his mother’s hospital room he was pleased to hear there was no talking on the other side. A good indication his father was not visiting right now. Announcing himself with a polite knock, Lance stepped in before waving for Bael to follow in after him.

His mother gasped, but the smile that followed was genuine and heartfelt. Lance returned with his own affectionate grin before quickly walking over and wrapping his mother in a tight hug.

“Lance! Where have you been? Your father and I have been worried sick about you. You have never run off like that before.” She whacked him lightly on the back of the head but his happiness from seeing her in good spirits couldn’t be wavered.

“Sorry Mom, I had to get out of town. I was feeling stifled by all the things coming up. Making you worry wasn’t what I meant to do,” he answered sheepishly.

She opened her mouth to make another remark before pausing and peering around his shoulder. “Did you make a new friend?”

“Oh, yes!” Lance reached back to grab Bael by the wrist, dragging him forward while the other man yelped in surprise. “Mom, I’d like you to meet my friend, Bael. Bael, this is my mother.”

He slowly nodded his head as his face became flushed, his eyes never losing the intense look he was giving her. “Margaret…” he muttered under his breath.

Lance blinked as his head shook in surprise. “Wait, do you know my mother?”

Bael shook himself out of his trance before hurriedly stepping back behind Lance. “No, you’ve just mentioned her before is all,” he hurriedly replied.

He didn’t recall ever mentioning his mother by name, but he chalked it up to simply forgetting it in the midst of all the excitement they’ve experienced.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Bael. Are you from Clock Town?”

Lance stepped in to shake his head and answer for him, having seen Bael now grow to be increasingly uncomfortable with this interaction. “No, he just moved here recently. I took it upon myself to show him around then we made plans to travel around the country. I’ll be leaving again soon, so don’t worry about me Mom, okay?”

She stroked his cheek with her hand. He clasped his own around hers and internally winced at how much she has wasted away from her illness. 

“I’ll always worry about you no matter how old you are. You’ll always be my baby boy, Lance.” She tugged at the side of his face indicating she wanted him to lean forward. He did so, and she pressed a kiss with her withered lips on his forehead.

Suddenly, jarring them all out of the serenity of this moment, the door swung open with Lance’s father sputtering as he began barreling towards his son.

“Boy, where in the world have you been? Your mother has been beside herself worrying about you.” His father lunged his hand forward to grab Lance by the shirt and yank him backwards, so they could look eye to eye.

Just as Lance spun around all too ready to face the verbal assault, Bael had laid his hand on his father’s arm and was squeezing it just enough to make the man wince.

“Let him go,” Bael commanded, each word emphasized with an increasing amount of venom.

Lance’s father recoiled in fear before puffing up his chest and getting in Bael’s face. “Unhand me! Just who do you think you are to talk to me like that? I’m his father, if I see fit to reprimand my son I will.”

Bael’s grip must have tightened given the increasing discomfort on his father’s face. “He’s my friend, and he doesn’t have to answer to you if he doesn’t want to,” Bael snarled.

“Bael, enough,” Lance requested softly.

“But…” Bael remarked as he turned to look at Lance’s face, searching for an answer.

“We’re going to go, Father. I received your gift, by the way. Thank you,” Lance politely remarked without an ounce of genuine gratitude to be found.

His father scoffed before releasing his grip on his shirt, which in turn made Bael let go of him. Lance turned back to look at his mother who was completely distressed by the situation, as she typically was when they fought in front of her. Despite how much was changing in his life as of late, there were some things he could always depend on to be consistent.

“I love you, Mother. I’ll do my best to see you soon. Father” -he turned to stare the older man intently in the eyes- “I suppose I’ll at least be seeing you by the time of the carnival.”

After roughly grabbing Bael by the arm, he led the both of them out of the hospital and in the direction of his home. When they rounded a corner onto a secluded street, Bael pulled back and refused to step forward.

“What’s wrong?” Lance asked out of breath, knowing all too well what was wrong.

“Why don’t you stand up for yourself?” Bael asked with eyebrows furrowed, the corners of his lips turned downward.

“I don’t want to upset my mother any further, alright?” Lance tried to pull him forward again, but he would not budge.

“You’re just using that as an excuse. I can tell this is more normal than playing happy family while your mom is sick.”

Lance spun around, flaring up in anger. “Stop talking down to me like you understand everything! It’s more complicated than you could understand in a few minutes.”

“How is it complicated? Explain it for me, so I can understand,” he requested.

Lance paused before looking down, then up, and finally from side to side. “It just is, okay? It’s been like this my whole life and pushing against it now isn’t going to change anything.”

“Lance…” Bael uttered his name with such tenderness it caused his breath to hitch.

He sighed under the intensity of Bael’s expression, feeling his walls he’d built up around the issue beginning to crumble brick by brick. Not enough to completely shatter, however, as this emotional scar was nearly as old as Lance was.

“I’ve always hoped that one day I would have the kind of dad that dotes on his child. One day he would look at me and his face would light up the way Mom’s does when she looks at me. So I take his yelling on the chin and try not to fight back, hoping that day will still come.” Lance’s voice began cracking as he spoke, causing him to turn around and start marching towards his home once more, with or without Bael.

“That’s not how you get love. Love doesn’t come from people that treat us terribly while we let them get away with it,” Bael shouted as he hurried to catch up with him once more.

“What good am I to anyone if I don’t strive for their approval? It’s all I’ve ever done my entire life, if I changed now people would probably hate me. Being a pushover is what I’m good at,” Lance answered with an empty laugh.

“Hey now!” Bael shouted, his voice rising so much it alarmed people walking on the other side of the road. “That’s bullshit.”

“Why’s that?”

“We fought this morning, or have you already forgotten?” They’d arrived at the back of his house where Bael would climb up to his bedroom. He started climbing up before pausing and looking back down at Lance who was making no efforts to hide how dumbfounded he felt at this moment.

“You think I pick a fight with important politicians for just anybody? Give yourself more credit than that, come on.” Without another word Bael disappeared over the windowsill, leaving Lance to stare at the wall in confusion.

Nyx flew into his vision from the side, surprising him as he assumed she was still within Bael’s cloak. She hovered in place directly in front of his face which jarred him out of his stupor, earning a nervous laugh from Lance.

“He’s always playing around, huh? It’s hard to keep up with him sometimes,” Lance spoke aloud to divert her focus from himself.

“You’re really thick, aren’t you?”

“Oh, so now everyone is going to make me feel dumb, is that it?” He shot back, trying to lean into what he assumed was teasing but all the while feeling frustrated at his lack of understanding.

“Bael’s trying to say he likes you a lot, dummy. Isn’t that obvious?”

“Oh.”

He supposed it was, all things said and done. It didn’t prevent the heat rising in his cheeks, however.

* * *

They returned at sundown with nightfall quick to follow, so Lance insisted they stay the night there. Much to his surprise, Bael didn’t protest the suggestion. After splitting his dinner that Abi brought up to his room, Lance tucked himself into bed while Bael made himself a nest of blankets near him on the floor.

“Have you decided where we should look next?” Lance asked, unable to find sleep despite the exhaustion that ached in his bones.

“Ikana City will probably be the best place to try for next, given it’s another human settlement. I would imagine you’re familiar with the place and that could give us an edge,” Bael answered with a yawn, his voice partially muffled by the blanket around his face.

“I’ve only been a few times, I don’t know how much help I can be.”

“Do you know anyone that lives there or is familiar with the place? Having a base of operations or just anyone on our side will be advantageous as we look for a possible resurrected god.”

“Well, I do know someone, but it might not be very helpful,” Lance’s voice began to trail off as he answered.

“Why’s that?” Bael asked, sounding more alert.

“She hates my guts.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going to be heading to the next location soon, hope everyone is looking forward to it!
> 
> As always thank you for continuing to read along! If you would, please comment with what you like or what I might be able to do to improve.


	12. More Than Meets the Eye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting this chapter! Last week got hectic for me, so I decided to just postpone this a week to give myself some room to breathe. I've also decided going forward that the schedule will be updating biweekly, so I apologize to those who enjoyed my weekly updates :( I think it will just be better for both the story and me, I hope you understand.
> 
> Stay tuned though, as I'll be sharing a special surprise in the notes at the end!

Lance awoke the next morning in a groggy state, hair resembling a haystack from the amount of tossing and turning he did while trying to sleep. Between Bael’s incessant needling and the mounting fear of facing someone that despised him, sleep evaded him for several hours. It was the unexpected aroma of coffee and fried pork that roused him from his slumber.

There sat Bael, still nestled in his layers of blankets, shoveling runny eggs and strips of bacon into his mouth now rimmed with specks of grease. A glass of orange juice rested betwixt his legs, dangerously close to tipping over. The noise of Lance stirring must have alerted him as he looked up with cheeks puffed mid-chew.

“Oh, you’re awake. Yours is over there,” Bael garbled as flecks of yolk-colored spittle flew from his open mouth. His hand holding the fork pointed lazily to another plate accompanied by a mug of coffee resting on Lance’s nightstand.

Lance blinked a few times before his brain caught up his current state of consciousness. His eyes opened wide as he stared at Bael as if he’d gone mad. “Did Abi see you?! She must have if you have your own plate of food. Oh, you must have given the poor woman a fright,” Lance groaned as he settled in to solemnly eat his own breakfast.

“No, actually. I went down to find something to eat because this one”- Bael’s fork now pointing at Nyx who was atop the dresser eating her own food -“was starving and couldn’t wait for you to wake up. Which by the way you slept in for an awful long time, but that’s unrelated.”

Lance shot him a look of displeasure, to convey just how much blame he was putting on him for his fitful sleep.

“I was scrounging up some food, and she comes into the kitchen humming a tune without a care in the world. Then she clicks her tongue, saying ‘oh you must be Lance’s friend’ and just goes on about her business. Nice lady, that one. Maybe a little too unconcerned for her own well-being mind you.”

“Huh, well I suppose I can’t complain then.” Lance pauses before looking back down at Bael’s neglected face. “Except about you. Have you ever considered chewing with your mouth closed?”

“Sorry, Your Majesty, I forgot my place for a moment. I won’t trouble you again,” Bael replied with a snort of derision.

Lance sipped his coffee before speaking, “It doesn’t have anything to do with social status. Not spraying saliva everywhere when you talk is just basic human decency.”

“There you go again, trying to apply your human customs to me.”

Once again, Bael drove a wedge between them by alluding to his ancestry. Sure, he had ears that extended into a sharp point and hair of an unnatural white color, but wasn’t that really where the physical differences ended? Why was he afraid of humanity?

“It’s true your fairy family probably didn’t teach you things like that if they didn’t have a concept for them. But right now you’re in a human city and about to go to an even larger one; it’s easier to not draw attention to yourself when you don’t behave like a wild man.”

Bael hummed without responding, and Lance sighed, assuming he was being ignored. As he ate his own food his heart swelled with gratitude for having a hot meal first thing in the morning. Since it was cooked with love by someone who knew his palate better than anyone else, everything was made to his exact tastes.

Peeking over the rim of his coffee cup, Lance observed Bael after his comments on his eating habits. A smile creased his lips when he noticed him grasp the fork in the exact way Lance was, as opposed to his previous overhanded method. Food was still shoveled into his mouth at an alarming rate, but he was trying to keep his mouth closed while doing so.

Lance still winced when Bael sipped his juice with a loud slurp, but it was progress he supposed.

Once breakfast was complete and the dishes were set aside to be picked up by a servant, Lance continued his morning ritual with a shower (after coercing a reluctant Bael that no, a shower two days in a row was not excessive). When they were both clean and properly dressed, Bael had an idea to propose.

“I know when we went to investigate Odolwa we didn’t come properly armed, mostly because I underestimated the threat he posed” -Bael paused to grimace- “therefore, this time I want us to be prepared for what may come next.”

“If you want weapons we have a small armory in the house. It’s mine more than anything, so no one will miss anything we take,” Lance replied matter-of-factly.

Bael gawked at him with his mouth agape.

“What? Isn’t that what you want?”

“You? The rich kid? What cause could you possibly have to take up weapons training?” Bael tried and failed to conceal an amused smile spreading across his face.

“Have you not ever heard of a hobby?” Lance asked as he escorted Bael down the hall from his bedroom to an inconspicuous door at the opposite end.

The interior of the room was minimal in decoration, a major contrast to the rest of the home. In the center of the room was a pair of practice dummies, but aside from that there was only a sparse assortment of weaponry mounted along the walls.

Bael whistled. “Forgive me for assuming as much, but considering how easily I downed you in the forest I didn’t take you for the martial type.”

“Like I said, it’s a hobby,” Lance reminded him. “I’ve never actually fought another person with my life on the line. I was in a weapon studies club in school, nowadays I just spar with my friends.”

“Here I thought you would be part of a drama group if anything,” Bael commented as his hand brushed over a layer of dust on one of the pole arms.

“No, just the yearly stage play is it for me. That was more forced upon me than anything, but I wound up liking it so it wasn’t for nothing.” Lance picked up his rapier, which had become his favored piece of his collection these days; it was also the one he felt the most proficient with. “I don’t have a spear like the one you used, do you have a preference?”

Bael picked up the pole arm he’d been admiring and gave it a quick twirly in his hand. “I think I can make do with this lance, Lance,” Bael answered with a shit-eating grin.

Lance frowned. “I’m not sure if I should trust your capabilities with a _glaive_ if you can’t even properly identify it,” he retorted sternly while walking in Bael’s direction.

Bael began to mock him, parroting back his speech in a nasally tone. This earned him a firm strike to the center of his back from Lance with his sheathed rapier, causing him to yelp.

“Prove it to me then, instead of mouthing off like you usually do,” he commanded as he started clearing the center of the room to make space.

This challenge proved to motivate Bael immensely. Without further egging Lance saw he was planting his feet on the opposite side of the room, lowering his posture into a crouching stance with the glaive pointed back in his right hand. The left hand raised to curl his first two fingers in a beckoning motion.

“You’re terribly confident considering how often I easily overpower you,” Bael boasted.

“For once I’m not necessarily afraid for my life, in fact, considering how much I know my dying inconveniences you I would say there is no person in the world safer for me to contest. Plus, I may lack confidence in most things, but my prowess with weapons is not one of them.”

Bael’s nostrils flared. “I can only hope I live up to the immense trust you’ve placed with me,” he returned sardonically.

Lance unsheathed the rapier and decided to wield the sheath in his hand as a secondary weapon. He assumed a fencing stance with his dominant leg forward and blade angled up, pointed directly at Bael.

“On your guard,” Lance barked, signaling the start of their duel.

Predictably, Bael was the first to lunge forward. He rushed within range of Lance’s blade before swinging the glaive hard in a wide arc. Lance was able to gauge for such an opening blow and parried it, but Bael’s sheer strength still caused him to buckle under the force. 

Bael grunted with a frown, displeased with the outcome of his opening gambit. He jerked the weapon back as Lance swung at his side with the sheath. This cycle repeated itself a few times more, each assault being differentiated only by the direction of his strike. 

It was painful to do so, but Lance was able to block him each time. The signs of his exertion were poorly hidden, yet he would not show weakness to him. By staying defensive, Lance’s plan was to let Bael wear himself out with strain. While unable to remain stoic, his posture remained firmly planted in place. 

Then Bael altered his strategy. Despite his heavy pants, his response time was impeccably quick as his body dropped even lower than it already was to try and sweep Lance’s legs out from under him.

Lance was able to recoil one leg but the other was caught in the swing, resulting in him stumbling backwards for just a second. A second was all it took for Bael to reel back and make an attempt at swinging down at him with the butt of the glaive. This continued to be his folly, rushing in hard and fast. With a large heavy swing Lance was able to block it with his blade once again, albeit requiring him to further brace it with his other hand pressed against the flat of rapier.

Bael became incensed, now charging at Lance to close the distance to jab him. Lance narrowly parried by knocking him away with the sheath, causing Bael to stumble as he was jarred out of his forward motion.

This was the opening Lance needed. He hooked his right heel behind Bael’s foot and jerked forward, causing him to fall backwards with a resounding thump. The tip of the rapier was then immediately at his throat, Lance staring down triumphantly.

The two paused to catch their breath, each heaving arhythmically. Lance’s body shuddered as he came down from the adrenaline high, reveling in how excited it always made him feel. The sword stayed positioned next to Bael’s jugular, even as he attempted to make a move to stand up.

“Forcing me on my back, are you? You certainly know how to get right to the point,” Bael teased, hissing as the tip of the blade pressed into his skin while he spoke.

“Perhaps you won’t underestimate me next time,” Lance stated, unwilling to let Bael’s flirtatious tendencies shake his resolve. He allowed the blade to drop away from his neck, twisting it so the flat of the blade was dragged across Bael’s chest.

Bael leaned up slowly as Lance removed the sword from posing any danger to him, until finally he was sitting up right on the floor. “No, I don’t think I will. In fact, I wouldn’t mind having you as an instructor, Master.”

Lance sheathed the rapier then reached a hand down to assist Bael with standing up. “I’ll consider it, but don’t call me that. Call me by my name, remember?” He wasn’t irritated like the last time Bael tried to use nicknames with him; this time he just didn’t believe he could tolerate the implications of such a thing.

Bael accepted his hand with a bark of laughter.

* * *

It was under the heat of the midday sun that the two of them departed from eastern Clock Town towards Ikana Canyon. The road was well travelled between these two regions, as opposed to the vast overgrowth on the paths to Snowhead and Great Bay. A few passersby tipped their hats to Lance in passing, followed by hushed whispers as they noticed the cloaked man sitting on his horse’s rump. Being the focal point of rumor-mongers was nothing new for him, but even he had to admit it was becoming excessive.

Bael didn’t mind it, however, content to play a ditty on a newly purchased flute he’d insisted Lance buy on their way out of town. He’d claimed his original was destroyed in the fight with Odolwa and he dearly missed it. The sincerity of his request surprised Lance, normally expecting that typical haughty tone of his. When he smiled in gratitude Lance could feel the warmth spread in his chest. Bringing others joy never ceased to make him happy.

The song Bael played was not elegant, but the joyful lilt managed to ease some tension weighing on Lance’s mind. That is, until they rounded a bend deeper into the canyon and the music stopped and Bael shifted his body.

“So why does this person hate you?” Bael chimed with a question Lance had heard repeated to him ad nauseam the night prior.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Oh come on, I’m about to meet her soon enough since we’re going there right now. If you tell me, I can make sure I don’t somehow bring it up.”

Lance stiffened, but remained silent with his focus on the road ahead.

“Laaaaance, please just tell me,” Bael persisted, prodding Lance in the side with light jabs of his fingers.

“I bet it’s an ex-girlfriend,” Nyx commented from her perch atop Oberon’s head.

“What?” Bael asked as his voice raised, shifting around so both of his hands were clutching Lance’s shoulders.

Nyx clicked her tongue, wings lightly fluttering as she let the weight of her assumption settle around them. “Oh come on, don’t act so surprised B. What other kind of relationship would a person get this worked up about, desperate to keep it a secret? It’s clearly a scorned lover, without a doubt.”

“Is that true? Is that why you don’t want to talk about it?” Bael’s voice almost sounded guilty as he asked this.

“No, no, gods no,” Lance answered with a shake of his head. To imagine having dated her was the most far-fetched scenario he could possibly imagine for himself. “She’s about as much of the opposite of an ex-girlfriend to me as a person could be.”

Bael returned to his previous position, a noise of satisfaction escaping his lips as he did so. “That’s more in line with what I thought. You’re not right about everything, Nyx.”

Lance could sense that if he asked for more information he would be inviting a scathing remark about his romantic history, be it a presumptuous one or entirely factual. The ride persisted in silence for several minutes as they crested over a hill, the visage of Ikana City rising in the distance. They would be there soon, but the creeping paranoia festered in Lance’s mind making him fixate on the previous conversation obsessively. Eventually, it became too much and he needed to ask.

“What do you mean by what you said earlier?” Lance finally asked, his words rushing out nearly startling himself.

His two companions both jolted at the surprise, Bael even going so far as to chuckle before answering. “Was that eating at you? Look, I don’t mean anything by it, it’s just pretty obvious you’re kind of a cherry boy. That’s all, really,” he assured.

Well, he got his confirmation. Lance was not certain if he was grateful to know this or if it just existed to irritate him more. He let out a snort of derision.

“Don’t be mad,” Bael teased, poking him in the side once again with a playful touch.

“I just don’t understand what about me would give you that notion in such a short amount of time,” Lance huffed.

“Listen, you’ve seen how I am, people have different responses to it. You’re not very subtle when you’re flustered by my jokes.”

Instead of answering, Lance reverted to ignoring his attempts to assuage him. It had been many months since he had visited Ikana City, and as usual he was in awe of its magnitude in comparison to the more modest simplicity of Clock Town. Buildings that were three or four stories tall were common within the metropolis, which would shock anyone who learned of the city’s bleak history for the first time.

A hundred years ago the land was besieged by a curse, most likely cast by the opposing kingdom that felled Ikana centuries ago. This curse did not let the citizens of Ikana rest peacefully, instead forcing them to exist as undead who roamed the land, destroying any and all life they might come across. It is again thanks to the hero, as well as the work of a Clock Town scientist, that the land was purified and the threat of undead nullified.

Knowledge of this tragic history tickled the back of Lance’s mind as he saw the bustling thoroughfare of citizens going about their daily business. Running errands, perusing the shops, and otherwise blissfully unaware of any wrongdoings the world might have in store for them. Eventually, they began to approach their destination and Lance’s palms began to sweat.

In the center of town, yet isolated from the other buildings, sat a two-story house. Over the doorway was a sign that read “Dr. Thorne’s Clinic”. Even from their distance the sound of howling dogs and yowling cats could be heard clear as day from the interior of the building, intermingling with the sounds of wailing children.

Before Lance got off his horse to knock on the door, he felt there was something he needed to say; he was incapable of dropping the previous discussion despite his many attempts.

“Bael, I just want to say that yes you are correct that your off color jokes do tend to irk me. It’s not, however, because I’m what you call a ‘cherry boy’. In fact, that name is not applicable to me at all.” With that said, Lance quickly slid off the side of his horse to march to the door of the clinic. His legs felt like jelly, and it took everything within himself to not crumple right then and there.

“Wait, seriously?” Bael balked at him.

Lance ignored him with a smug smile of self-satisfaction. With that small boost to his confidence he rapped thrice at the door, awaiting an answer with bated breath and gritted teeth.

The old wooden door began to creak open, revealing a raven haired woman similar in height to Bael -which was to say much shorter than himself- with a friendly expression.

“H-hey Rachel, long time no see. I was wondering if you could help out my friend and-”

Her friendly smile sagged and her dark eyes narrowed with animosity. She slammed the door in his face without a word, leaving Lance to stand there with mouth agape.

Bael stepped forward with a furrowed brow looking at Lance expectantly. “I thought you were exaggerating before. What’s her problem?”

Might as well explain it to some degree now, it really couldn’t hurt things more than they already were. “She’s Aryn’s girlfriend, Rachel. As Aryn’s childhood best friend, she’s always just kind of hated me.”

“Okay, so I was close,” Nyx proclaimed with a proud air.

“Almost only counts with horseshoes and bombs,” Bael playfully teased her back. “I wish you’d told me sooner, I wouldn’t have had to worry so much. Stand back and watch.”

Lance had no idea where this was going, and he had a sinking suspicion he was not going to like it.

Bael pounded the door with his fists and stood back haughtily on his heels, rocking back and forth while waiting in anticipation. The door cracked open once more, albeit just enough to see Rachel’s seething stare from the other side.

“Do I have to spell it out for you? Go away before I call the city guards,” Rachel commanded, voice full of venom.

“Dr. Thorne, may I call you Rachel?”

Her blank stare answered that question.

“Dr. Thorne, we’ve never met so forgive my forwardness, but my _lover_ ” -Bael made a large display of waving his arms back towards Lance- “and I had some business in town and were wondering if we could trouble you by requesting some assistance.”

Her eyes squinted as she looked between them, and for a fraction of a second the door began to slam once more before being interrupted by a voice behind the door.

“Dr. Thorne? Why are you hovering at the door like that? Your patient in room B has been waiting for almost half an hour.”

“Begin taking their vitals, Jorah. I’ll be there in just a moment.” The sounds of footsteps walking away signified their departure as Rachel cut her eyes back at Bael. “You both may come in, only because I can’t have a pair of dithering idiots banging at my door all day. I’ll answer your questions, and then you leave. Understand?”

Bael grinned and the door swung open to allow them entry. He turned his body around to look at Lance, an expression that indicated he felt like he was winning whatever competition they were having between the two of them. “Ready to go, darling?”

Lance was firmly rooted to the spot, his face like a fish gasping while out of water since Bael began his exchange with Rachel. He couldn’t fathom the audacity Bael could have to just outright lie like that to her with such an outlandish idea. Them, a couple? In what twisted reality could that ever be the case?

Trapped in his own thoughts, it took a pinch on the back of the thigh and an arm looping through his to bring him back to reality. He jumped at the sudden contact as well as the pain, staring daggers down at Bael, who looked as satisfied as a cat presenting a fresh kill to their owner. Except in this situation, he was the prey and the owner it seemed.

“Come on, pretty boy. I’ve got our in, don’t squander it already,” Bael whispered as he pulled Lance along.

Before this was all said and done, Lance was going to kill him for this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The boys decided to get competitive today, but that was bound to happen eventually. Bael might be taking it a little far though :P
> 
> For the surprise! I commissioned a piece of artwork of Bael and Lance. You can find it and the credits for the artist in the link below.
> 
> https://likethegearsofaclock.tumblr.com/post/624492631605624832/i-finally-commissioned-some-art-of-the-boys-this


	13. What's Mine is Mine

They were barely across the clinic threshold when Bael bit his lower lip to stifle a whine.

Lance had seen fit to acquaint his heel with the top of Bael’s foot. He offered a smile dripping with displeasure, masked by false charm. This is a day Bael would rue, Lance would make absolutely certain of that.

After entering the clinic the pair was quickly alarmed by the full waiting room. The small, cramped space with limited seating contained every manner of four-legged beast a person could imagine; this was in combination with the vast number of humanoid patients as well.

Bael’s eyes immediately started to dazzle as several varieties of canine came sniffing the legs of them both, not wasting a single moment to bury his hands in their fur and shower them with baby talk. 

Lance was grateful for the separation of contact, but once again that niggling thought in the back of his mind reared up. He couldn’t help but get annoyed at how much of a lush Bael could be around animals, yet beyond their moments of emotional intimacy Lance just felt like a verbal plaything. Like with this petty, boyish competition they were having. One that he was going to win, mind you.

Rachel turned on her heels right in front of them, shooting them both -with a heavy emphasis on Lance- an impatient and frustrated stare. “I am behind on my appointments, so you two will be waiting right there.” She pointed to a blank space on the wall in the corner of the room. “And” -she directed her focus to Bael, who was allowing one very affectionate dog to lick him thoroughly all over his face- “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, he is infected with hookworms,” she whispered to him.

Bael, consistently not one to do as another suggests, continues reveling in the attention.

Unconcerned with further warning against his idiocy, she leaves without another word and disappears behind a door next to the reception desk.

Still in the heat of irritation, Lance yanks Bael back by his ponytail just enough to knock him off balance a bit. It was _very_ tempting to drag him that way to their designated corner, but he also wasn’t interested in making that kind of scene in front of several strangers. He quietly took his spot leaning against the wall, Bael soon after taking his own as well.

Silence stagnated between them, neither seemingly interested in saying anything to the other. The cacophony of noises in the room began to grate on Lance’s nerves, so much that his teeth started to grind without even realizing it. Several people within the waiting room kept casting wary looks in their direction, uncertain of the charade being played out between them.

Lance watched that door to the backroom like a hawk, his unwavering stare causing his eyes to sting as he frequently resisted the urge to blink. He was only pulled away by the sound of a ragged sigh coming from right beside him.

“You’re acting as mean as a damn snake, what the hell is” -Bael paused to snatch his foot away as Lance struck his heel down once again- “your problem?”

“Don’t you dare ask me that like you have no idea what you’ve done,” Lance hissed, unconcerned for the other people as the din in the room would cover them adequately.

“Look, you told me this girl has never liked you, right? Because you’re best friends with her special someone?” Bael looked at Lance, expecting a reaction of realization but shaking his head upon not receiving it. “Clearly she’s threatened by how close you two are, so what better way to clear the air than make it apparent you’re not sexually available?”

“The problem is that you told her a bold faced lie that I’m going to have to keep the charade up for who knows how long. This isn’t your problem when all is said and done; you just get to leave, never to worry about any of it ever again. For me? This is my entire life,” Lance explained, exhaustion already setting in to his features.

Bael hummed before rolling his eyes. “You’re really blowing all of this out of proportion and acting like a brat. In fact, I would go so far to say you’re acting this way to protect yourself from something.”

Lance averted his eyes to look in the other direction, choosing not to answer.

“Almost as if you’re guilty. Like you’re betraying someone.” Bael’s voice became focused, more discerning with each word. “You like someone, don’t you?”

A shock ran up Lance’s spine as his eyes widened. “Why would you ask me something like that?”

“Give me a better excuse for behaving like an indignant toddler then.”

A heavy silence settled in once more, this time with Bael eyeing Lance carefully while the other man stared at the door once again with his lips drawn into a taut line.

“No, there isn’t anyone I feel that way about. I just don’t like you jerking me around as a part of your silly games. Because it’s all a game, isn’t it? You can say it was to pacify Rachel all you want, but really you just wanted to get under my skin and one up me.”

Bael shook as his head jerked backwards. “You don’t get to flip the blame on me when all I’ve done here is try to help _us_ save the world, remember? Honestly, I thought you were better than that. I thought you trusted me.”

Lance felt pangs of guilt in his chest. He hated acknowledging Bael was in the right here. There wasn’t another soul in the world he knew save for his mother and his best friend that would stick their necks out for him like this. The time they’ve known each other has only equated to six days (four in their current continuity) but the things they’ve gone through sped up the development of their bond. Protecting each other with their lives changed Lance’s usual instinct to push people away initially. No matter how things ended, Bael was going to be an important person to him for the rest of his life.

“Mr. Wisteria,” called a cold feminine voice, jarring them both out of the heated silence. Rachel stood outside the door, face hardened without expression.

He pulled away from the wall to meet his fate, but spun on his heels when he heard Bael dogging behind him. “No no, you stay.”

“Why?” Bael furrowed his brow, a flash of anger ignited abruptly on his face before burning out into one of confusion. 

“Please. Just do this for me,” Lance pleaded, unwilling to explain any further.

Bael nodded slowly; his face poorly hid the inner desire to protest this request. Lance was content to leave it at that and meet his fate.

“Hey, Lance,” Bael called out to him.

He would have liked to leave it at that, but it didn’t appear to be in the cards for him today. His shoulders squared and with arms crossed, watched Bael expectantly. There was a sinking suspicion the other man had something scathing in mind to say, the final word to put him in his place before he left for the lion’s den.

First, Bael’s eyes darted to look behind Lance in the direction of the backroom, then he looked back up at him with a pensive face. After what appeared to be great deliberation on his part, Bael’s hand reached up and hooked his fingers on the collar of Lance’s waistcoat. He yanked Lance forward with a single, solid tug, knocking him off balance.

With no better option, Lance was forced to quickly unfold his arms and brace himself on Bael’s shoulders to keep from colliding with the floor. Soon after he caught Bael’s mischievous smile, drawing ever nearer to him.

Then Bael kissed him.

...Kissed him?

Wait, hold on, Bael _kissed_ him?

No sooner than he had initiated it he was pulling away, leaving Lance wide-eyed staring down at the infinitely unfathomable enigma that was this man. Lance once again felt like a gasping fish, only this time his head was within the cat’s jaws.

“Don’t keep me waiting,” Bael cooed with a wink, patting Lance on the chest as his eyes shifted once more to look towards the backroom.

“Y-yeah, sure, right.” Unable to form coherent sentences, Lance took this as his moment of escape. The gallows were calling him, and he was eager to answer now.

* * *

Rachel took a seat at her desk once she closed the door behind them, sealing the roar of the animal kingdom in the other room away. Immediately her focus was devoted to papers on her desk, never once entertaining the thought of acknowledging Lance’s presence.

Lance was grateful for this, actually, as his mind was spinning so hard he feared smoke would soon come out of his ears. His hand covered his mouth as he felt the heat rise in cheeks, just knowing he was turning a brilliant shade of pink. Where Bael’s lips had touched his for the briefest moment, Lance’s skin tingled. He darted a nervous tongue out of his mouth to lick at the spot of contact, the moisture on his lips an all too real confirmation it wasn’t just his imagination.

“Go on, spit it out whatever it is you want to say,” Rachel ordered without batting an eye.

_Why did he do that? Was it me who accidentally kissed him when he made me fall? It was probably part of the pretend dating, but being physical is definitely going above and beyond what’s required here._

“Lance?”

 _Is it simply because he’s a terrible flirt and just playing with me, again? I thought he was mad at me, but then he smiled at me in that way even I have to admit is kind of adorable. Adorable? What am I saying? Of course I don’t think Bael is ad-_ _  
_ _  
_ “Lance!” Rachel shouted, fist curled after colliding with her desk to get his attention.

“Huh? What?” His eyes, having been pointed at her this whole time but not really perceiving her at all in the midst of his compulsive thinking, briefly widened in surprise as his hand dropped from his face.

“Hurry up and ask whatever you came here to ask. I don’t even really totally understand why I agreed to do it in the first place, so don’t make me immediately regret it.”

Lance scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. “Right. Bael and I were hoping we could use your clinic as a place to hideout just in case things get dicey while we’re in the city. You know, with the ‘family’ in town and all that.”

“Part of me wants to ask what kind of illicit activities you will be getting into, but frankly I’m really not that interested. You’re not suggesting bringing problems to my business, are you?” she asked, making it clear that was more of a threat than a question.

“Absolutely not,” he was quick to assure. “We’re not from here, so I thought to check in with the one person I did know in town. I promise not to bring you any trouble, Rachel.”

She barked a hollow laugh before shaking her head. “I feel like you’ve been telling me that for years, yet you’ve been at the center of all my problems for the last three years. Well, adjacent to my problems anyway.” Rachel paused the writing of her pen, setting it down on her desk before interlacing her fingers and finally looking up at him. “I can do this for you. Quite easily, in fact. You just need to do something for me as well.”

Oh no, he didn’t like the sound of that. “Alright, what’s your request?”

“Call off the sham wedding. Then I’ll help you,” she answered flatly, incongruous to the weight of what she was asking of him.

Lance sighed deeply. This was essentially what he expected this encounter to come down to. “You know we can’t do that. Doing this is all for Aryn’s sake, you know that,” he pleaded.

She huffed at him, her eyes narrowing into slits of deep-seated rage. “Of course, I forgot. _My_ feelings don’t amount to anything, nor have they ever. You get the brilliant idea of proposing to the love of my life, and she agrees to it without a thought to how I might feel. Do you know how much it hurt me for you two to make such a decision without talking to me about it?”

“We were going to right away, but-”

Rachel held up a finger commanding his silence, which he obliged. “Of course you know, in fact I’m sure that was your goal to begin with. You’ve always hated me since the beginning, haven’t you? Couldn’t stand that you didn’t have Aryn all to yourself anymore. Am I wrong?”

“That’s not true,” he quickly asserted, but not without fumbling over his own tongue.

“You’re a terrible liar, and frankly always have been. I always tried to accommodate you; you were barely a man when I met Aryn, so I just took you as immature. Little did I know it was deeper than that.”

Lance’s heart began to accelerate as she dug her claws into his skin, rending his flesh down to the bone. His breaths became shallow, sharp, and unable to calm his racing pulse. She was capable of reading people better than anyone else he knew, and it was part of the reason he disliked her. The facade of a happy-go-lucky young man was immediately seen through by her. He hated being known for his truth.

“You’ve been in love with her for a long time, but you’ll never let yourself admit it. Since she never knew how you felt you’ve never been rejected, so you’re just clinging to this hope that one day she’ll be yours. I tolerated it, despite it being obvious to me, because she loves you,” she uttered the final words as if they pained her to say them.

“You’re wrong. I’m doing this to protect her from losing her home, don’t you see that? If she doesn’t marry someone her family approves of, then she’s going to be forced to marry one of the Gorman family. Those wretched, horrible bastards who are nearly her father’s age. Or, she can run away and lose her entire family in the process. Is that what you want for her?”

“It could have been discussed first” -Rachel rose from her desk and began walking around it, approaching Lance threateningly- “but you were all too eager to be the solution to her problem. I know you just can’t wait for me to get fed up living the life of a mistress, and it will just be you and her again.” She punctuated her words with firm finger jabs into his chest. “How long do you think that one out there will tolerate it? Don’t you care about hurting him too?”

Lance did not want to acknowledge Bael in this matter, but even he couldn’t deny that he’d made a point to keep this arrangement a secret from him as well. He couldn’t explain why. 

“I don’t ever want her to be unhappy, and she loves you so much. That doesn’t change the fact that you bring your own bad history with you.” Lance’s mouth shut quickly after saying this, immediately regretting the words that were already coming out. It was too late now, and he would have to own what he said.

Her eyes widened as she was taken aback by this statement. “What are you talking about?”

“Your brother, I know he’s a captain of the Valerio family. Aryn doesn’t need to be involved with someone who has such close ties to criminals.”

A resounding slap filled the room.

Lance’s cheek stung from the impact, but the ache in his chest far surpassed it. Rachel’s face was a mix of rage and disgust the likes of which Lance had never seen before. He had never planned to divulge this secret that he dug up years ago with his father’s political connections, but he was already burning this bridge as they spoke. 

“Get out,” she commanded as she began walking away.

Without another word he did just that.

* * *

Having no energy to entertain Bael’s curiosity, still being furious _and_ confused by him, Lance grabbed him by the arm and dragged him out of the clinic. Bael, quick to read Lance’s emotions, silently followed behind. They mounted Oberon once more and rode off into the city without aim.

Eventually, once Lance’s shoulders loosened and he was able to breathe deeply again, Bael rested a concerned hand on his shoulder. Lance immediately jolted at the contact, his body in a heightened state of awareness and feeling at ease with no one anymore.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Bael asked, the tenderness in his voice almost sickening.

“No,” he answered, and considered leaving it simply at that before deciding to elaborate. “I’m still mad at you as well, in case you’ve forgotten.”

Bael hummed, removing his hand in response to that. “Well, while you cool off, I need you to take us to Stone Tower.”

“Why?”

“I did some asking around while you were busy. It’s where Twinmold’s remains are kept. In fact, the place seems to be a museum of sorts now. So we should be able to easily get in there and investigate.”

Lance altered their course to lead them towards the back of the city towards the looming tower in the distance. Once a tower built to reach heaven by the fallen Ikana Kingdom, it indeed had been changed into a public historical museum for the city. Lance had even visited it before on an overnight school trip, so it struck him as odd that Bael didn’t realize what it was. Just another one of those things about him, he supposed.

Being early in the day and the middle of the work week, the museum had low occupancy currently. This was perfect for them, as it easily let them join a tour group on the spot that advertised a visitation to the room housing Twinmold.

Bael appeared uninterested in much of what the guide explained, but Lance on the other hand was all too fascinated by the history of Ikana. There were many artifacts of the old kingdom that had been dug up from the cemetery outside the city, including things like weaponry and armor, but also preserved artwork. Statues were also present that commemorated the hero who liberated the canyon from the plague of undead, though each one depicted a different artist’s interpretation of what they looked like.

Finally, they reached the gargantuan chamber that housed Twinmold. Lance understood that the twin worm gods were supposed to be humongous, but he vastly miscalculated just how large they were supposed to be. Though the tour promised to show them the body of the creatures, that wasn’t quite the true case. Twinmold’s remains came in pieces, and only a few of them were present here. The two heads were the only significant pieces present.

Unable to pass a large fence that separated the visitors from the bodies, Bael sent Nyx off to inspect the body up close. Once she returned, Bael shook his head in disappointment.

The guide went on to give an in depth explanation of Twinmold and its known history. They were once two enormous centipede-like monsters as large as Ikana Canyon itself. Records of their appearance in Stone Tower correlated with the time that undead began walking the earth, so historians typically assume they were the cause of it. It’s unknown how the hero, a small human, managed to slay them both and live.

Once finished she allowed visitors to ask more specific questions. Bael was the first to raise his hand and be called on.

“Are these the real remains?”

The tour guide paused and blinked at him, as if the question threw her off guard completely and she had not been trained on answering such a question. “Yes sir, these are the genuine remains of Twinmold. As you can see, we have both heads of the great insect monsters and pieces of its preserved corpse.”

Bael nodded, and as she began taking questions from other visitors he slipped away while urging Lance to come away with him as well. Lance attempted to ask what the hurry was, but Bael quietened him as he led them both outside the museum.

“The reason I rushed us out is that Nyx confirmed my suspicion. Those remains are fabricated, and there’s no telling where they’re actually housed. Or why they’re using fake ones anyway.”

“Maybe they’re dangerous for the public to be around?” Lance offered, attempting to be optimistic.

“Perhaps. Well, I’ve an idea where we can go next. Let’s head that way.”

As they started to head towards Oberon, the earth began to shake. Immediately, the crowd of people in and around the Stone Tower began pouring out of the building in an unorganized mass. Despite the small number, the narrow doorway caused the people to converge on a single point. This resulted in Bael and Lance both becoming swept up in the masses of people.

Lance quickly got separated from Bael and his stomach sank at the realization. He could hear both him and Nyx shouting his name trying to find him, but he was unable to move closer due to the shaking of the earth and the cocoon of bodies around him. 

Soon after, his vision went completely dark. A solid piece of cloth covered his entire head and a large hand closed itself over his mouth to stifle his shouts of fear. His body was wrapped by an arm that dwarfed the size of any humans. Lance couldn’t move except to aimlessly kick his legs at the air. 

Whoever had a hold of him was now carrying him away while easily pushing through the crowd despite the surrounding chaos. Lance was desperate for someone to take notice of what was happening to him and attempt to stop it, but more than anything he just wanted Bael to save him. 

Hot tears streamed down his face as his mind reflected on how he had treated Bael just moments prior, wishing to any higher being that would hear him to let him see the other man again to apologize for how he acted. His only hope now would be that death would come swiftly from his captors.

Lance howled, as in the distance he heard Bael crying his name with panic in his voice. Shortly after, the sounds of the city disappeared entirely.  
  
 _“Help me,”_ his heart cried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are really starting to pick up now. The days of blossoming friendship are passing us by.


	14. Lost

The crowd of panicked humans cleared as the vibration of the earth began to cease. As the dust settled Bael spun around, searching in desperation. His heart felt as if it were going to jump into his throat as it drummed against his rib cage. He dropped to his knees, his rate of breathing increasing as the realization of his fear settled in.

Lance was gone. Taken from his protection.

Bael berated himself for becoming too thoughtless. Up to this point their work had been progressing relatively smoothly after the first three days of hell. It had been a short two days of reprieve, but it had been wonderful. Normal, carefree, and most of all _human_. His soft spot for Lance's companionship had made him forget the severity of the events surrounding their partnership. Lance became his friend out of necessity for survival, he must not forget that.

"B, come on you have to get up. I saw a goron with a mask cart him off, but lost him in the dust all the humans kicked up." Nyx had come flying to him in a rush, reporting on her findings when she left to scout for Lance's whereabouts.

"Did you see where they went?"

"They were headed back towards the city, but beyond that I can't say." She flew down close to his face and started pushing against his cheek. "Every second you sit here moping is another second that kid is put in greater danger. We have to help him!"

Bael sighed, his hand interweaving into his hair before clenching into a fist. "We have no idea where to even start; Ikana City is a huge place."

"What is the matter with you? The Bael I know has never let something simple like that stop him from making things right." She paused before shaking with excitement. "I know! We can go ask the Great Fairy for help. She represents kindness, surely she will want to assist us."

Bael snorted as he shook his head. "You're forgetting that all the Great Fairies and any fey loyal to them despise me. They hate what I am," he lamented, brow furrowed as he stared down at his gloved hand.

"Yeah, but-"

"No, we don't need their help. We've always done things on our own in our own way, and this isn't going to be any different." He picked himself up off the ground and dusted his clothes off, determination replacing the melancholy previously on his face.

"We're going into town, Nyx. It's time to do our peddler routine." Bael was already walking off with a quick stride in the direction of Oberon, leaving Nyx to float there in apprehension.

"Aww, I hate that routine," she whined before swiftly flying after him.

As soon as Bael reached Oberon and grabbed his reins to lead him to town, the horse shook his head as he rooted his hooves in place. Without Lance at his side to coerce Oberon, the animal was resistant to listening. Bael tried to pet his nose and coo affectionate words, but the horse stayed rooted to the spot. It was where his master had left him, and Oberon would wait patiently for his return. Bael squinted as he peered up to look into Oberon's eyes. He sensed uncertainty there. No doubt the horse was still spooked by the quake moments prior, and adding this only exacerbated those fears.

"It's going to be okay," he whispered, hand passing through the thick hair of the horse's mane. "I know you can't understand me, but I promise to return him to you. Have faith in me, okay?"

If you asked, Bael could not tell you who needed to hear those words more.

Eventually, after what must have been a great inner turmoil, Oberon relented and allowed Bael to guide him by the reins. As quickly as was possible, he led the three of them away from the Stone Tower in the direction of downtown Ikana City.

* * *

A man, a fairy, and a horse walk into the market. It sounded like the setup for a hilarious joke, but it wasn't even the oddest thing a person would see on a typical day here. Merchants here would peddle anything from typical wares of textiles, food, and crafts to exotic creatures and rare artifacts. Wolfos in cages snarled at passersby from one stand, while the one next door was selling fragrant perfumes and elegant clothes. Races from all corners of Termina journeyed here for one reason or another. Be it the ocean-dwelling fishfolk to the mountainous beings made of pure rock, all were accounted for.

When Bael's eyes caught the first glimpse of a goron, he had to fight everything in his being to leap at them and demand information about his friend's whereabouts. Logic defeated instinct in this instance; there was no indication that threatening one goron would get him what he wanted. Plus, they were a race of proud warriors. If Bael picked a fight with the wrong one he'd more than likely have all his bones broken than accomplish anything meaningful.

"Can you make this quick, B? My wings are getting cramped," Nyx complained, pulling Bael out of his focused vigilance.

Before they had arrived at the market, Bael had made a quick stop at a general supplies store in search of something suitable for this old tried and true scheme he used with Nyx, much to her displeasure. He had purchased a small bird cage with the few rupees he had on hand and enclosed her inside. Now he just needed to find the right merchant to enact this on.

"Welcome! Welcome! Are you a purveyor of precious gemstones? Perhaps your marital bed is growing cold? Look no further my good people, for the jewelry in my possession would make even a thornback appear as a blushing bride. Gentlemen, your wives will be the talk of the town with one of my pendants 'round her neck." A blustering, red-faced man waved his hands in front of his stall in an attempt to draw in customers.

Bingo. This was exactly the type of man Bael was looking to find. He needed information, and who better to provide it than the loudest mouth in the market. In preparation for approaching this middle-aged merchant, Bael pulled the cowl of his cloak fully over his head. He arched his back and drew his arms close to his body.

"Nyx, I need the glamour," he whispered.

"You know a wild fairy like me doesn't have the power to do that well by myself," she scolded in return. "I can try, but it's not going to be amazing. Your acting will have to be better than normal."

Bael clicked his tongue, but said nothing further. In a small flash of purple light, Bael's face transmogrified into something partially hideous. His eyes sunk into his face as the surrounding skin began to sag and obscure them. His cheeks and mouth became more wrinkled, but not nearly as drastically. If one were to closely inspect his face the unnatural aging would be more noticeable, but ideally that would not be happening.

"Alright. Ehem, testing, testing," Bael croaked, attempting to pitch down his voice into a ghastly rasp.

"Are you going for an old lady or a frog?" she sneered.

"I could be the third hag sister, thank you very much. You and the other peanuts in the gallery have no room to judge," replied Granny Bael.

"It's not- it's not a gallery of peanuts. You know that, right?"

He shushed her into silence before squeezing through the crowd, clutching the caged fairy in one hand and pulling Oberon with the other. It was a sight that garnered a lot of attention, including that of the rosy cheeked merchant. His grin spread wide as he displayed every single one of his pearly whites, hands clapping in jovial excitement at the sight of an old woman. The people who were once blocking the way stepped aside; were it from respect or apprehension Bael couldn't be certain.

"Well, well, what brings a young lady out to the market this fine day? I believe I've a fine silver bracelet that would suit you very well. Care to take a look?" Every word the merchant spoke was oozing with wretched charm. Upon a closer inspection, Bael noticed his canines were capped with golden crowns. What a tasteless man.

Granny Bael wheezed, chortling exaggeratedly. He brushed the hair from in front of his eyes to better stare the merchant down. The merchant's friendly facade faltered, if only for a split second. He quickly regained his composure, pulling at the collar worn tightly around his neck.

"Jewelry isn't what's catching my eye today. I was hoping that you might be able to tell me some information I've been seeking. Not for free, of course," Granny Bael assured with a withered smile.

Instantly the merchant's eyes darted to Nyx in the cage, but also back at Oberon. More than likely he was admiring the wrapped rapier and glaive strapped to the saddle. His tongue darted out of his mouth to lick his lips.

"What information might you be looking for, Miss?" he inquired, poorly hiding his excitement at the idea of gaining atypical goods.

A gnarled finger appeared from the sleeve of the cloak, curling inward towards Bael in a come hither motion. "It's not for prying ears to hear, sonny."

The merchant leaned down, hands splayed on his table as he pushed his ear forward to be easily within Bael's reach.

"My grandson, you see, was taken. Snatched right off the streets of our dear city. Might you know who I can get in touch with to retrieve him?" Granny Bael asked.

As Bael imagined would be the case, the merchant began to sputter and his face turned white as snow. He reeled back into an upright position, reaching for a handkerchief in his breast pocket to dab at the beads of sweat on his forehead.

"You ought to go back home, old woman. I don't know what business your grandson has gotten himself into, but you'd best forget about him now. He won't be seeing the light of day again anytime soon," the merchant warned.

Bael's eyes narrowed as he tilted his head back. A snort was the initial response he gave before leaning in over the table with a sour expression. "I was afraid you might say as much. See, my other grandson is a soldier of this fine city." Bael cast his eyes back at Oberon, focusing on the weapons. When his face returned he saw that the merchant had followed his look exactly as intended. "If he learns that someone could have helped return our family to us, well, it won't be a pretty sight."

The merchant continued dabbing at his face, blinking down in fear at the words of an old woman. "If I tell you, will you leave and never speak of this again?"

Bael pulled himself back into his former position, grinning with false kindness. "Of course, of course. And as I said, I will pay you for your trouble," he reminded, patting the cage for good measure.

"Right." The merchant leaned forward once again to whisper so only Bael could hear. "Members of the family often hang out at The Bloody Fang. Now, it's not a place an old woma-"

"Do I look like I'm getting any younger, boy?" Granny Bael grumbled. His kind, matronly smile shifted into a frown. "Tell me where this place is and I'll be on my way."

"Er, yes- well, you'll find it on the west side of town. Near the old well. Really, ma'am, someone of your advanced age should-"

"Thank you very much, Mr. Merchant." Bael tossed the caged Nyx over the table into the merchant's unprepared hands. He narrowly maneuvered his arms just in time to catch it, but not without fumbling for a moment. "Treat her well; she is my family's greatest treasure." Bael winked then turned on his heels to leave the market and head towards his new destination.

Minutes later, as Bael crested the hill departing downtown, a cacophony of shouts could be heard behind him. The sounds of crashing tables, roaring monsters, and malcontent shoppers echoed against the mountains encapsulating the city. He smiled, but never turned his back to take in the sight of wreckage he was certain was behind him. His hand reached out with palm facing upward as shuffled forward through the streets, until he felt a gentle weight settle there.

"Sounds like you had fun making a mess," a partially glamoured Bael commented while sporting a mischievous grin.

"Considering how many times greedy humans have captured me for good luck, I'm never against causing people like that problems," Nyx panted, wings fluttering against his palm. "I am disappointed I couldn't make off with any of his jewels though, they were really pretty."

"I never took you to be the vain type." Bael was now standing up straight, with wrinkles gone but cowl still over his face.

"I'm still not. Nothing is beautiful enough to accentuate my beauty; it would only be a detriment," she quipped. "It would be for you, naturally."

Bael blinked and knitted his brows. "I barely wear a clean shirt everyday and you think I want some frilly necklace?" he queried.

"Not for you to have" -she paused, but continued when he responded with a confused stare- "for the love of the Giants, why do I have to spell everything out for you?"

"Because you're being purposefully vague. It used to be that you loved telling me why I was wrong and stupid. Now, well, you get mad every time I don't understand something."

Nyx sighed, her small body shuddering violently. "That's because I want you to learn how to read the room sometimes. If you want a relationship with that boy, provided we can rescue him-"

"We will. Don't humor the thought of failure," Bael gritted sharply.

"When we _do_ rescue him, then you need to apologize for being an ass. I know you love playing around with people, but even you have to admit you're being confusing."

"He's the one that stomped on my foot!" Bael retorted.

"So you follow that up by kissing him with no warning?"

Bael began to respond but shut his mouth just as quickly. The majority of the time Nyx won these arguments and he had no energy to spare on keeping up with her ferocity. Once they finished climbing the series of hills leading to the back of Ikana City, they were presented with a junction. To the right appeared to divert into the wealthy residential district, full of immaculate mansions and lush greenery in contrast to the rocky earth of the rest of the city. In front was the entrance to the Spring Water Cave, the primary water source for the city that provided hydroelectricity and fresh drinking water for the citizens. It was open to public visitation and was quite the tourist destination for those interested in the dark history of Ikana.

The third option was much more unsightly, and down a less travelled path. In this direction lie the pointedly unmanaged seedy underbelly of the city, a fact everyone here was aware of. Given the dubious nature of the governorship, the existence of this sector was intentional and completely unprotected by city militia. Common people didn't venture this way, and if they did it was considered their own damn fault for trespassing if they got injured- or far worse.

That old well the merchant mentioned was deep in the heart of this area, and therein lie Bael's only known means of rescuing his friend. Without hesitation, he took his first step into the unknown.

In similar fashion to Clock Town's Shadow Market, this section of the city was more highly populated with the less accepted races of Termina. Just from passing through in a few minutes, Bael caught sight of lizalfos, moblins, and gerudo, just to name a few. Normally an unfamiliar human would alarm those who were typically discriminated against by them, but that wasn't the case. The gerudo eyed him suspiciously, but that could be explained easily by how close their blood was to Ikanian humans.

Monsters, however, regarded him as one of their own. He was fully accustomed to this response. Fairies did not get the same regard, so Nyx hid herself in his cowl and she often did. His eyes shifted from side to side as he sought out this supposed well and The Bloody Fang that coincided with, all the while a nagging thought clawed at the back of his mind.

"You never explained what the jewelry was supposed to do," Bael stated, ending their prolonged silence.

"What?" she whispered, startled by his sudden question. "Oh, that. You mean you don't get why that might be helpful?"

Unable to give her an impatient look at her current angle, Bael instead shook his head briefly.

"Gifts help people be receptive to an apology. If you haven't done something completely awful, of course. Plus, don't you think a pretty rich boy like him would find a lot of value in an expensive gift?" she answered.

"I thought that was something women were fond of, not men," Bael suggested. "You might be imposing your ideals onto someone else."

"How would you feel if Lance gave you a bouquet of flowers?"

Bael's lips pursed, heart fluttering at the thought. "Touché."

"Ha! Think again before doubting my understanding of the heart, little bro." Nyx's wings twitched against his neck as she flapped them with joy.

"You're forgetting something though. I only play around, nothing more. We're friends; that's all. Stop asserting that it's supposed to be something deeper," he responded bitterly.

She fretfully called his name, but it fell on deaf ears. What his heart may or may not want did not matter now, nor was it going to. His purpose was to protect the woods, thereby protecting the world connected to it from the dangers within. Once he quelled Dumah and his brethren, Bael would return to the woods once more. He did not belong in their world, and a soft spot for a sentimental young human wasn't going to change that reality.

"We're here," he announced, halting in place immediately. Before them was a surprisingly well kept building surrounded by the decrepit slums. It was large and dimly illuminated, sporting an ornate sign above the door with a depiction of a snarling wolf. The beast's canines dripped with blood that spelled out "The Bloody Fang" in an antiquated Ikanian script.

In the distance behind it Bael saw the old well, but it appeared to no longer be in use. The mouth was sealed with planks, along with an abundance of warding charms plastered all over the area. Bael couldn't make sense of the meaning behind it so he paid no mind and focused on the task at hand.

Bael secured Oberon's reins to a nearby post before giving the horse a reassuring pat on the neck. He pulled Lance's sheathed rapier from the saddle and secured it to his waist, opting for a less obtrusive weapon than the glaive. Hopefully it wouldn't matter what he used, he just needed to make a point.

His foot shoved the door open, slamming it against the wall and drawing the attention of everyone occupying the tavern. Several pairs -and other combinations- of eyes deigned to take in the cocky bastard who wanted to get their attention. Many people in the room bristled as Bael returned his own look, eyes flashing with wild intent as he stared them all down. The wise ones returned to their drinks while the rest continued to watch him apprehensively.

With all the swagger of a mafioso, Bael walked over to take a seat on a barstool. He propped his heels on the lower rungs before tapping his fingers on the counter. The bartender, a portly human with as many scars as he had stories, grunted in response. He stared Bael down with his one visible eye, the other hidden beneath an eyepatch.

"What'll it be?" the bartender asked, voice gruff and bored.

"I'm just here looking for someone. Or some information, at the very least. I need to meet with a Valerio goon. They've taken something of mine."

The bartender's eye left him as it turned upwards to look at something behind Bael. Bael started to turn around when a large hand slapped him on the back giving him a jolt. He gritted his teeth.

"Have business with the family, do ya? Well I'm family, perhaps I can help you out, little man," the bold man sneered. He was as tall as he was wide and muscular as all get out. Bael wasn't impressed.

"Well then, you've saved me some time. Appreciate it, I really do," Bael answered with a smarmy grin. "As I was just telling this guy, your family has taken something of mine. I don't take kindly to people doing that, so I'd like you to return him."

The man pushed his wide-brimmed hat with his thumb and gave a dark chuckle. "You're gon' have to be more specific than that, boy. Everything in this city is ours, what right to it do you have?"

"I see. I didn't make myself clear. Earlier today, just a few hours ago, a goron goon of yours snatched a man from around Stone Tower. The boy is mine, so give him back," Bael seethed.

The man -no, this bastard- continued to laugh as Bael made his case. This further fueled the inferno in his stomach that was already raging against his insides. "You must be new around here. Tell you what, as a courtesy to a fresh face I _won't_ kill you for trying to tell me what to do. If you run on out of here and make it out alive, it'll be like nothing ever happened." The bastard clapped him on the back once more to drive home his point.

Bael hummed, his arm closest to the man snaking up his arm to clasp at the nape of the bastard's neck. Bael grinned, which must have confused the man as he only nasally hummed in response. He kept his own arm firm against Bael's back.

"Let's try that just one more time."

With supernatural ease, Bael slammed the bastard's face onto the counter. The bartender jumped backwards, dropping a glass as blood spewed from the point of impact. Judging by the grotesque crunching sound, the bastard's nose was shattered into fragments by the force of Bael's strength. His wail was agonized, intensified as Bael's hand ground his face into the wood.

Bael pulled his head back up, nose mangled and two teeth popped out of their sockets. "You see, your family's goon took someone today."

Slam. More teeth popped loose and remained in a puddle of bloody spittle.

"A goron, I believe it was. It was around Stone Tower, just a few hours ago."

Slam. That time Bael believed he heard more bones cracking. Perhaps his jaw, or even an eye socket.

"He took a young man. Long brown hair, kinda tall, with a smile that could drive a man mad."

Slam. The bastard's face was now flush with the countertop, his body no longer putting up any resistance to Bael's assault.

"You probably didn't know then, so maybe I can overlook it, but that boy is mine. I'd like him back. Sooner rather than later, if possible." At this point Bael was standing up from the stool, holding the mangled face of the bastard aloft for all the patrons to see. He dropped him into a crumpled heap on the floor; the bastard had either long since went unconscious or died, Bael didn't particularly care which it was.

It went without saying that everyone in the room that had a taste for violence had risen to their feet, eager to pick a fight with Bael. Likewise, Bael's eyes went wide as adrenaline pumped in his veins. He didn't even draw the blade, feeling enough at ease to tear them all apart with his bare hands.

To his immediate right he heard the sound of a revolver hammer click into place. It was time to act, and act fast he did. Before the gunman had time to reposition his thumb from cocking the gun, Bael was charging head first at him, keeping his body low to the ground. In a panic the gunman fired, sending the bullet whizzing by Bael's head.

Bael leapt into the air, left hand moving quickly to his right as he pulled the off the glove he always wore. His now bare right hand gripped the gunman's face as Bael collided with his body, sending them both to the floor.

_Now, release!_

The gunman screamed. All at once blood spurted from every orifice of his head. His eyes were boiled out of their sockets, with only singed optic nerves and rendered tissue remaining in the dark hollows of his skull. The skin of his entire body tightened as all the lifeforce was expelled from it, resulting in a leathery husk that was merely a shadow of the human it had once been.

Bael stood up and re-covered his right hand. He dusted off his clothes as best he could from the spurts of blood, but inevitably it was going to stain. His eyes turned back onto the other patrons of the bar whose courage was shaken by the display he'd put on so far. With one step forward, they would take two backwards.

"Now, unless any of you dickless chickenshits wants your spine pulled out through your pisshole, would you kindly give me what I've asked?" Bael threatened. The blood smeared on his face only served to emphasize the intent behind his threats. They were far from empty.

"Now hold on, son," the bartender called out. His hand reached under the counter, which made Bael place his hand on the hilt of the rapier.

On the back wall a click echoed through the room and a portion of the wall swung inward. Bael looked at the bartender in confusion.

"That's the way to the hideout. None of us can take you to implicate ourselves. Just go; you've made plenty of mess here," the bartender pleaded.

Bael needed no other invitation.

* * *

The secret door immediately took him down a steep staircase that went deep underground. A musty odor of stagnant water and fresh dirt filled the air. The bottom of the staircase led to a stone hallway that split into a variety of branching paths, all narrow and darkened.

Nyx took it upon herself to fly out from his cowl and soar along the ceiling to begin her search for Lance's whereabouts. She took off to the right and Bael took the opposing left. As he brought himself deeper into what seemed to be ancient catacombs, he felt increasingly lost as the scenery barely changed from room to room. What also surprised him was that he did not encounter another living person during his search. The only things he found were scattered bones along the floor.

A man's howl of pain reverberated against the stone walls and immediately Bael was alert to the noise. Ignoring his instinct to run after it, he instead waited to see if he could identify the voice. As he edged closer to the source of the sound, the cries grew louder as they were accompanied by a group of threatening male voices cajoling the one in pain. The pained one would not waver, telling them they could hurt him all they wanted.

"You're all going to be sorry when my friend sees what you've done to me," said the all too recognizable voice. It was weakened, but still full of that insurmountable boyish pride.

Bael's heart leapt into his throat as he sprinted down the hallway, chasing his wails. Soon, Bael turned around a corner that led to the first door he had seen in the entire hideout. Candlelight flickered from under the door, illustrating the shapes of pacing shadows. Without further hesitation Bael bum-rushed the door.

There was the person he had been desperate to find. Lance was tied by his hands and feet onto a wooden chair, shirt ripped open exposing his stomach. There were several long slashes across his face, arms, and all over his chest. The wounds were deep, seeping long, thick streams of blood into pools on the floor. His face lit up upon Bael's appearance, though obscured by the purpled skin swollen around his lips and eyes.

Two humans were holding tools of torture that had presumably caused all the injuries he saw. A smaller, tweedly man held onto a pair of knives, while a larger fellow grasped a mallet. They turned in shock to see Bael having barged into the room and were already turning to meet him with weapons swinging.

Bael's right arm convulsed as he drew the rapier with his left. He deftly blocked the dual knife wielder with a grunt. With a firm step forward he pushed hard against the knife fighter, all the while pulling his glove off with his teeth. The knife fighter stumbled backwards from the force.

Before the mallet man was able to crash into Bael's skull, Bael's right hand shot out to press his palm on the man's chest. The convulsing became visibly noticeable as it cascaded down his arm into the other man's body. The mallet fighter violently shook as the bones of his body began splitting apart from the pulse radiating out from his core. Starting with his sternum, a chorus of snaps and cracks filled the room. He fell to his knees -or what was left of them- as blood spurted from his ears, nose, and mouth.

The knife fighter looked at his companion in horror as Bael quickly covered his hand once more. Lance's reaction was subdued as he was most likely delirious from the loss of blood. Bael raised the rapier and pointed the tip of the blade towards the only threat left in the room. The distinct scent of urine filled Bael's nostrils. Assumedly his opponent had pissed himself in abject terror.

"Get out of here. Let this be a lesson to the family to not take what belongs to me," Bael ordered, keeping the rapier pointed intently on the coward.

With a yelp, the coward shuffled around Bael's side until he could turn towards the door and begin sprinting to safety.

"Too slow, changed my mind." As if he were skewering a fish to grill, Bael plunged the rapier into the center of the coward's back. It was without a doubt Bael had severed his spine. Bael planted his foot on the dead coward's lower back to remove the dirtied blade with ease. He wiped it clean against the dead man's shirt before sheathing it once more.

Immediately Bael was at Lance's side to untie him from his binds. On closer inspection the damage they had done to him was much worse than he first assumed. Half of his fingers were mangled from having been smashed by something heavy. The entirety of his pants were soaked with sweat and blood, and his feet had been severely slashed and crushed as well.

Bael openly wept as he looked up into Lance's battered face that could only look down at him with a hopeful smile. All he had done, everything he went through was to keep Lance safe. None of what he accomplished or strived for held any significance if this one human was harmed. Bael had initially sworn to protect the woods, his only home, as well as the world at large. Now, however, his priorities had begun to shift. The moment Lance had opened his heart to him, to accept him as he was, it really had been Bael's undoing. It was a kindness he had never known from a human before and never would again.

"Hey...Bael," Lance whispered. His voice came out partially as a gargle with blood dripping from his open mouth. "I stayed alive. They didn't get to kill me. I did good, right?"

Bael's face sank to press against Lance's thigh, no longer able to maintain composure. His hands still fought at the ropes, needing desperately to get Lance out of here if he wanted to save him from dying to loss of blood. The struggle wasn't over just yet.

"I'm going to get you out of here, okay? We're gonna get you fixed up. I don't care who I have to fight to get it done, _I will save you_ ," Bael sobbed.

He was answered with silence.

Upon looking up, Bael now saw Lance's head lolled to the side with lids partially closed. There was now a knife embedded in his throat, and the gasps for breath had ceased.

Bael rose to his feet, spinning on his heels. Immediately he saw a third person who either had been hiding in this room or had only just appeared to end their captive's life. It was a goron, a large muscular one covered head to toe with tattoos representing the tribe he originated from. Most curiously of all, instead of the typical black, he was sporting solid golden eyes.

"My my, Bael. You're quite a resilient one, aren't you?" the goron crooned. Its voice was soft and low, rather unlike what any typical goron would have.

Bael squinted, raising his sleeves to wipe at the hot tears stinging his eyes. "Why are you here? Shouldn't you be hiding deep in the woods still?"

The golden-eyed goron darkly laughed. "Oh, I'm always watching you, Bael. Just waiting for you to slip up. Which you did, it seems, but not in the way I would have liked." The goron stepped forward, making Bael instinctively take several steps to the side. A large hand reached out to grasp at Lance's jaw, angling his face side to side as the goron examined him. "You let my vessel get irreparably damaged. I can't have that." He clicked his tongue.

"He's not yours- he will never be yours, Dumah," Bael asserted, brows furrowed with teeth bared.

"Not this time, no. There will always be next time. One day you'll slip up, and I will be ready." Dumah turned around to face Bael, a large toothy grin shining in the dimly lit darkness. "You know how this goes. You messed up; time to do it again."

Bael's eyes darted to the ground as his free hand felt his pants pocket. Still, he dared not move.

Dumah sighed. The hand on Lance's jaw moved to grasp him by his hair as he shook his head. Dumah's face turned back to look at Bael, but this time in rage. "Let this be a reminder to you. So long as you fight me, my child, this will always be your result. Do it. Again."

Bael growled but relented in the end. From his pocket he retrieved the flute Lance had bought him just this morning. He squeezed it tight in his hands before raising it to his lips to play a somber tune.

The world around him faded; the last thing he remembered seeing was Dumah's golden eyes and Lance's ruined face. When he opened his eyes next it was the middle of the night and was laying on a leaf bed on the forest floor. A fire crackled by his side with Nyx sleeping on his chest. Lance was snoring peacefully on the other side of their camp.

It was nearing dawn of the day prior, and Bael was going to start again.


	15. A Hold on Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the late chapter, editing took me a bit of extra time. Hope it was worth the wait!

Even in the depths of despair, when it seemed as if all hope was lost, Lance never truly stopped believing Bael would rescue him. There were many moments he faltered, feeling like he didn't deserve someone to raise hell for his benefit. His captors shouted at him, injured him, and just utterly tormented him the entire time he was in their possession. They wanted information about matters he barely comprehended; his brain began to swell from the blows to his head, causing some of his recollection of their words to become muddled. The desire to see Bael's face prolonged his hold on sanity, a fact of which he had no doubt.

"You're all going to be sorry when my friend sees what you've done to me." It was a feeble attempt at intimidation, especially coming from his mangled body that lay upon death's doorstep.

His captors chuckled, brandishing their weapon for another round of abuse to try and extort secrets he simply did not have. He screwed his eyes shut and bit down on his lower lip to resist the impending pain.

Before they were able to further harm him the door swung open- banging against the wall and eliciting a gasp from his tormentors. Lance cracked open an eye (the one that was less swollen) to see what new fresh misery arrived for him.

Yet there he was, in all his magnificent, chaotic glory. Bael's eyes were maddened, feral, with teeth gritted and body covered with blood stains. When his eyes connected with Lance's, for an instant they sparked with warmth that overcame the burning anger. Lance questioned if he could dare be permitted to have hope.

As relief washed over him, Lance's grasp on reality began to falter. His eyes drooped and the tension in his body began to relax. The sounds of Bael fighting off his captors were mere white noise in the background; the blood pounding in his veins drummed on the inside of his head covering all other sounds.

Quicker than Lance would have fathomed, Bael was at his side tugging at the ropes that bound him. The careful brush of his shaking fingers against Lance's arm did wonders to soothe the ache in his broken spirit.

"Hey...Bael."

_I need you to look at me. More than anything else right now._

"I stayed alive. They didn't get to kill me. I did good, right?"

_No one else ever has. Will you tell me that you're proud of me?_

There was so much else within his heart he wanted to say, but the fight for consciousness was one he was losing. Bael crumpled into his lap, most likely lamenting the situation Lance had once again put him through. Something about watching Bael drop his facade of strength made Lance's heart drop into his stomach. In the time that he knew the other man, all of the things they went through, he had never seen Bael deteriorate in this way. If Lance's hands were free he would run a hand through his wild hair and tell him everything would be okay now. It was going to be fine, because Bael saved him.

Lance's eyes caught a glint of iridescent gold from the darkness in the corner of the room. Pearl-white teeth shone in an ill-fittingly jovial grin. Fragmented memories from another time, another life, flashed in front of Lance's eyes. Images of the golden-eyed shadow that hunted him in the Woods of Mystery came rushing to the forefront of his thoughts. Lance's head shook as he groaned to try and get Bael's attention, but the other man was too consumed with his mourning.

A glint of metal flew across the room, reflecting the light from the candle light sconce on the wall. Swiftly, with little resistance, the blade became embedded in his neck. Given that his body was already in shock from the pain, the penetration was barely noticeable. Lance croaked, blood now flooding from his mouth as the air he breathed began leaking from the knife wound.

As his eyes closed for the last time, his final sight was the grinning golden-eyed face in the dark corner. The last thing he heard was Bael's false promises of ensuring his swift recovery.

* * *

He was in the middle of deep sleep when the phantom sensations set in. Every inch of his body ached to his bones, while his skin burned from being slashed to shreds. His eyes squinted as he failed to rouse himself, locked in sleep paralysis. There was a heavy weight pushing on his stomach but his arms would not move to push it away.

His brow began to sweat while his body started twitching involuntarily. Lance was trapped in his own body; not unlike the fragments of memories that passed behind his eyes retelling a story of imprisonment. The golden eyes reappeared, flitting from image to image. His grounding to reality faltered as his understanding of this ever present being continuously eluded him.

A feather-light touch graced his forehead and the convulsions ceased. The mental assault dispersed to be replaced by comforting thoughts. Memories of his mother's voice singing to him cast away all thoughts of isolation and darkness. His small, juvenile hands reached out to touch her own but she remained out of reach. They were deep in the heart of the forest, which was unlike any memory he could recall from before with her. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the visage of what appeared to be a young, unfamiliar child.

Just as he registered the stranger, his eyes flew open.

Sitting atop his forehead was Nyx, gently fluttering her wings as she used her fairy magic on him once again to calm his nerves. He carefully lifted a finger to rub atop her head, eliciting a small sigh from her in the process.

Lance then realized that despite the dream having ended, the weight on him was still present. Casting his eyes downward he saw that, much to his surprise, it was Bael. His upper body was laid across Lance's torso with his arms folded making a pillow to rest on. For the first time since they met, Lance was seeing Bael while asleep. Typically Bael was extremely expressive, always smirking or frowning as it fit his mood. Here, however, he was the picture of serenity. His mouth was opened slightly which resulted in a puddle of saliva dripping onto Lance's stomach. Typically this would have disgusted him, but in all honesty Lance was just happy to see his savior at ease.

It was only after this assessment that Lance realized he was not, in fact, laying in his bed at home. On the contrary, he was laid out on the forest edge with the fire crackling faintly beside him. It was this observation that made him spring up and look from side to side in a panic.

Of course, those using him as their resting place were not fond of this movement. Nyx whined as she was flung forward into the air, forced to catch herself or go tumbling onto the ground. Bael ended up getting flipped onto his back on Lance's lap as he awoke with a start.

Bael's eyes opened wide as his arms flung out in alarm. One of these said arms ended up pushing Lance back down, resulting in an embarrassing display of two grown men flailing their limbs at each other.

"Bael- cut it out!" Lance gritted, the heel of Bael's foot pressing into his chin holding him down. Lance's hands struggled to push Bael's legs away from his head, while his own legs were wrapped around Bael's torso trying to wrestle him into submission.

As if the weight of a Giant was pulled off Lance, Bael finally pulled away to separate himself from the other man entirely. The fear dropped from his eyes to be replaced with realization. He looked upwards at Lance apologetically, but Lance couldn't understand where such an expression would come from.

"Are you- are you okay?" Bael blurted.

Lance blinked before stretching out his arms to take a look at himself. Other than being uncomfortable he was in his night clothes around another person he felt normal. "Aside from a few bruises just now, yeah I think I'm okay."

Bael's lips quivered as he shook his head, eyes narrowed intently when he focused on Lance once more. "No- I-" He visibly struggled to say whatever thought plagued his mind.

It was tempting to offer a comforting hand to rest on Bael's knee but Lance resisted. Flashes of confusing feelings welled up in his stomach that he failed to comprehend. Each time his eyes alighted on Bael his insides would roll.

"Those people did awful things to you, Lance," Bael whispered, eyes looking beyond Lance into the distance. "I don't know how much you remember, but it was horrific."

Truth be told, Lance couldn't remember much. The last thing he vividly remembered happening was talking to Bael the night before. They had agreed to be open with one another and ease up on the antagonism. Yet flashes of Romani Ranch, Clock Town, and Ikana City teased at the edge of his mind. It appeared a lot had transpired before he died in the last sequence of time.

"I remember" -Lance paused as Bael visibly tensed- "that we had a big fight," he recounted, brows furrowed as he painstakingly plucked at the scattered pieces of memory. "We had an argument, but made up later. You took me to see the stalfos in the woods."

Bael watched Lance, befuddled by this recollection but making no motion to interrupt it.

"Then we went home and then to Ikana sometime after. I don't- I don't really remember much about what happened at home. Except you yelled at my dad" -he smiled while imagining it- "and I kicked your ass in a spar."

"After that we went to Ikana City where…" Lance's voice trailed off as his eyes widened.

Bael's arms wrapped around his knees as he curled up to hide his face. His nails dug into his skin, threatening to cause injury. "I'm sorry- I'm so fucking sorry, Lance. It was my fault any of that happened."

After several heavy, silent seconds passed Bael eventually raised his head to look up when Lance did not speak or even move. What he saw was Lance's face bloomed into a vibrant red, with both hands covering his mouth as he stared fervently at the ground.

"You- you k-kissed me," Lance finally stuttered, incomprehensible underneath his hands.

"What?" Bael asked, flabbergasted.

With immense dread Lance peeled his fingers apart, knowing full well how much he desperately did not want to broach this topic. "At the clinic in Ikana you kissed me. I don't remember why but you did," Lance finished, shooting an accusatory look at Bael. His eyes tried to convey anger, but his face was still flushed.

"That- that's what you remember?" Bael half-shouted, flaring up in exasperation.

"How could I not?! Who just kisses someone they barely know out of the blue?"

"Oh for the love of- look, I feel like a broken record at this point. I wanted to drive it home to Rachel that you weren't interested in her girl, okay? That. Is. All."

"That's it?" Lance's hands dropped to his lap as the color seeped from his face.

"Simple as that. I don't understand why such a big deal had to be made of it." As Bael said this, his eyes shot up to Nyx sitting on Lance's head before sticking out his tongue.

"That's...it. Huh." Lance grew quiet as his understanding of the situation deepened. He recalled going to the clinic and Bael pretending to be his lover (his stomach flipped at the thought) in order to get Rachel's cooperation. Which he failed to get, so it was all just a waste of their time. Clearly his punishment was to suffer these persistent, intrusive images of Bael pulling Lance towards himself. Pressing his soft, alluring lips against Lance's own. His heart, which was once consumed with reflections of platonic intimacies with his best friend, was now plagued with new, jarring emotions.

As it had become a recurring theme of his life, he found himself obsessing over the affections of those who did not want him in that way.

Bael paid Lance's lapse into heated fantasy no mind, as he immediately proceeded into the next topic at hand. "After that, when they took you from- when they took you, did they give any inclination as to why?"

Lance paused for several moments in contemplation. A large portion of the time was spent willing his fervently drumming heart to return to normal. Once the emotions were suppressed, a skill he was not adept at, his mind reflected on the dark blot in his fragmented memory. Two men hounded him for information relentlessly, but the reason was fleeting. Mentions of true intentions in Ikana came to mind, but rest he was forced to grasp at near aimlessly.

"They wanted to know what the both of us were doing in Ikana." His hand balled into a fist as it pressed into his forehead with a grimace. "That we were suspicious. Like we had something to do with a problem that was cropping up in the city recently."

"Did they mention Twinmold, by chance?"

With eyes fluttering, Lance eagerly nodded his head as that particular word unlocked the seal hiding the rest of his memory. Unfortunately, this came with the additional baggage of further recalling the extent of his torture. His palms grew clammy and his mouth dry. The balled fist unfurled to clench at his hair.

"Yes, yes they did mention Twinmold. They wanted to know if we were in possession of Aka. I don't know what Aka means and they would never explain it. The fact that you knew the remains at the Stone Tower were fake made us suspicious to them."

Bael took a deep sigh, looking despondent. "It was written on one of the signs at the museum, but the twin insects have their own names given by the people. Aka is the red one, and Ao is the blue one. What you tell me leads me to believe that the body of Aka is missing. An impressive feat for the corpse of an old god the size of Clock Town."

"They also accused us of using Aka to spread the blight around town. That lately people had started acting weird, attacking anybody in their vicinity," Lance elaborated, slowly as the memories came back to him.

"Remember in their history how Twinmold was responsible for the curse of the undead on Ikana Kingdom?"

"Yeah, I do," Lance answered with uncertainty.

"If one of the twins is missing and people are starting to act weird, think you might understand what they're getting at here?"

"Oh. _Oh_."

Bael rose from the ground and casually stretched his upper body. "The sun will be rising soon. I'm going to check on the grove. Nyx, stay here with him."

Nyx's voice began to rise, but he stifled whatever she might have said with a single look.

"Juji will probably be coming before I can get back and then we can go to Clock Town." Bael cast a gentle look down towards Lance, having been pointedly looking away from him up until now. "We can have a nice breakfast in the city, if you'd like."

Lance nodded. That sounded like a dream.

The sun did indeed begin to rise shortly after Bael's departure. With it also came the torrential downpour, extinguishing their campfire leaving the two of them in the chilled dusk.

In a pattern Lance could only compare to nervous pacing, Nyx flew in circles around their camp. She let out an aggravated whine every so often as she shook the build up of moisture that accumulated on her small body.

"Nyx, do you know why time reset to this day?" Lance asked, his drenched mane obscuring his eyes that followed her every move.

"What?" she barked. Her tone must have surprised her, as she repeated the question once more softly.

He repeated the question once more and she tersely replied, "I don't know."

"Not that I wanted to end up dying again, but I had hoped in the back of my mind if I did I would get another chance to save Kuthro." When he first awoke from his nightmares acknowledging that time reset to a new point hadn't occurred to him. Once Bael reminded him Juji would be coming by it crushed his fleeting hope.

"I know you have a lot of regrets about that, but it's really not your fault. Words can only do so much, I get that. Just- forgive yourself for making it out alive, okay?" she consoled him, her anxious flying abated.

"Thanks Nyx. You really do know the right things to say, huh?" he asked with a smile.

"Let's just say I've got a few years on you. And don't even think about asking about my age," she teased. She settled into place in the crook of Lance's elbow to seek cover from the rain. Lance could feel her snuggling in against his body, which brought him an inordinate amount of comfort.

The morning sun began to peek through the forest canopy, altering the dreary rainy atmosphere into a brighter sunshower. In the same way that he could depend on the morning sun rising at the usual time, so too did Prince Juji arrive as expected.

The young prince's face was composed as he gracefully navigated through the overgrowth. His illuminated eyes alighted on Lance, to which he responded with a small grin on his protruding snout. As he drew near his eyes cast around in search of something, looking perplexed as he did so.

"Good morning, Your Highness. I don't know if I ever told you my name; I'm Lance Wisteria," he announced over the percussion of the rain.

Prince Juji looked up upon being addressed. "Hello again, Lance. Is Master Bael not here?" he queried, focusing back on Lance.

Lance shook his head. "He had some business to attend to in the forest."

"Oh." Juji's posture slacked as his head turned downward. "I wanted to come thank the both of you, but I can't stay for long."

"Your brother's funeral is today, isn't it?"

The prince nodded as he crept forward until he was within mere inches from Lance who was seated on the ground. The leaves that decorated his head were pressed flat against his head due to the torrential rain, making him appear even tinier than Lance thought he had previously.

"Thank you, I-" Prince Juji choked as the features of his face began to quiver. "I saw that you tried to harm yourself in grief when you found my dead brother. I also saw how valiantly you fought to save Master Bael."

Lance's breath hitched. He did not expect the exchange with Juji to happen like this and it was throwing him off completely. From what he vaguely remembered it was formal and brief, but this was beginning to tie his stomach into knots.

"You're our hero," Prince Juji cried. "You saved not only myself but the Lord of the Woods as well. If something were to happen to Master Bael, the world as we know it would come to an end. Mother is angry, I know, but if my brother was here he would tell you that his life meant nothing compared to his."

His heart began to race as Juji looked up at him in despair. A tentative hand reached out to pat the young deku prince on the head, which made him rush forward and wrap his small arms around as much of Lance's torso as he could.

"Odolwa killed Kuthro. He claimed his right of sacrifice to protect this land. The royal family cannot remain bitter over this fact," Juji mumbled with his head burrowed into Lance's stomach.

Much of what the young prince was saying was ignored by Lance. Once again he was fixated on trying to understand just who Bael was. What was his role in the affairs of all of Termina?

"Your Highness, if I may be so inclined to ask." Lance's mouth felt dry, heart throbbing against his chest while his hand shook atop Juji's head. "What has Ba- Master Bael done to earn your people's reverence?"

Prince Juji looked up perplexed. "You mean you do not know? As his retainer I would have thought you knew of his importance."

Instead of arguing with his assumption, Lance merely shook his head.

"As my family was formerly the protectors of the Woods of Mystery, I am privy to some of its secrets. Not all of them, however, given its name that alludes to its uncertain nature. There is a darkness, lurking in the woods. One that many did not live to recount the tale of. Master Bael sealed that darkness away. Without him, I do believe it would have escaped one day and killed us all."

Lance found himself lost in contemplation. Was this darkness the thing that attacked him the first night he supposedly met Bael? That wasn't what he would consider a creature under control. Was the darkness trying to escape now, and that's why they were going to all these different lands? Every time he sought answers, it felt like he walked away with more questions.

Prince Juji pulled away and rubbed the sleeve of his regalia across his snout. "I have to be going now. Mother must be frantic wondering where I am. Thank you again, Lance. For what you've done and what you're continuing to do. Your actions will impact us and our descendants for the rest of all time." Without sparing time for farewells the young prince departed. His shoulders squared with his chin held high as he walked back towards the palace of the Deku Kingdom.

"Nyx, did you know about all that?" Lance blurted, desperate to somehow quell his frantic heart.

"Yes. I would say only part of what he said is true," she replied bluntly.

"Which part?"

"Trust me when I say this, Lance, but you're already entangled in these matters enough as it is. There are some things you're better off not knowing about."

He didn't know what he expected to learn, but this did nothing to settle his worries.

* * *

After another hour passed Bael eventually returned from his trip into the woods. The rain was beginning to let up as they packed what little belongings they had and returned to Clock Town on horseback. Lance had to push down the persistent temptation to interrogate Bael on what Juji said; his rationale was too skilled at making competent arguments about why that would be an atrocious idea. The primary one being that Bael was beginning to act exceptionally distant towards him. They rode in unsettling silence all the way from the swamp to the city proper, and no matter how many times Lance tried to broach a topic it was met with little more than grunts.

Bael had promised him a nice breakfast in town, and all things be damned Lance was going to have that much. He brought the pair of them to a quaint bruncheon cafe that was a favorite of his. It had been the kind of place he only visited with his mother before she was bed ridden in the hospital given it was not the place one could easily bring an assortment of male friends. Since his life was turned completely upside down, Lance had little regard for societal norms anymore. If he wanted to drag a non-female friend here for sandwiches and crepes after killing a god, then he felt entitled to that privilege.

It would have been wiser to visit his home first and clean up, but he was hungry and anxious. He was only going to put up with one of those emotions for much longer and the anxiety wasn't going away anytime soon. The two of them sat outside away from the majority of the patrons, yet many of them still felt comfortable shooting them disapproving glances. Image was something Lance had spent all his life worrying about so he didn't make his father look bad, but today his well of damns to give was dry.

Quickly a waitress came over to take their order, all smiles and flirtatious lines. He couldn't overlook the crinkle of her nose as she got closer to hand them menus and either caught sight or a whiff of something unpleasant. Old Lance would have been embarrassed, today Lance didn't think anything of it.

After the waitress took Lance's order and switched to Bael, who was overwhelmed by the options, Lance felt a firm hand on his shoulder. This caused him to jolt out of his seat making his knee slam into the table's underside. He hissed as his head spun around to see who was responsible.

"You look like you've seen better days, Lance."

Lance quickly relaxed but not before shooting a dirty look at the owner of the voice.

"Would you mind not scaring the daylights out of me, Orwen?" he growled.

Orwen smirked before promptly dropping it as he looked across the table. "I thought we usually kept the same company, yet here I see you with someone I've never met. A relative of yours, by chance?"

"Ah, no. This is a friend of mine from out of town you've never met. We just got back into town after a bit of traveling, so you'll have to forgive the state of our dress," Lance answered with a nervous laugh.

“Is that so?" Orwen asked, teeth gritted.

The hand on his shoulder squeezed tighter, earning a wince from Lance as Orwen’s fingers dug into bruises he acquired either from Odolwa or Bael. As his mind shifted from old friend to new, Lance caught a glimpse of Bael locked in an apprehensive stare at Orwen. Apparently Orwen was equally matching it.

“Mind if I join you two?” Orwen’s smile was strained, and his eyes expressed an opposing emotion.

“Well, we’re not planning to stay for long-”

Orwen was already pulling up a chair and seating himself close to Lance’s side. Lance shot an apologetic look across the table to Bael, but found the other man focusing on a glass of water he was stirring spoonfuls of sugar into. His eyebrows were knitted together and the corners of his mouth turned down.

“So where have you been gallivanting off to? Your father has pestered both Thane and myself nonstop. I think he believes we might be stowing you away or something to that effect.” Orwen’s eyes cut back to look at Bael. “Having a mental lapse, are you? This gentleman looks more like he belongs in the Shadow Market than carousing about normal society,” he commented low under his breath.

“He’s not a bad person, if that’s your worry. We became quick friends and decided to travel to the nearby regions. You know, a celebration of the last of my youth and all that.”

“Ah, yes. Your ‘farce’ of a ceremony. Don’t play coy with me; you know I know better than that.” Orwen’s face darkened as his hair fell in front of his eyes, dropping his head lower to better obscure his voice. As he spoke, his face displayed a range of emotions, varying from displeasure to mild amusement.

“Shh, you know I don’t like talking about it in public. It doesn’t need finding its way back to Mr. Romani or my father,” Lance hissed, voice matching Orwen’s low volume.

“Poor, pitiful Lance. Always overextending yourself for other people without receiving half as much consideration in return,” he commented with a self-righteous smirk. “Is that what’s happening here, too? Have you promised to help reform a ruffian, so you’re entertaining yourself by wallowing in filth with ilk like him?”

The table shifted with a loud bang, shocking the two of them with the sudden noise. They both cast their eyes over to Bael whose expression was fuming at best.

“Instead of whispering under your breath, why don’t you say out loud whatever it is you want to say about me?” Bael seethed.

Orwen chuckled. “Of course, where are my manners? I don’t know you in any capacity, but I don’t need to. You’re the type of low class riffraff that Lance should be mortified to show himself around. Yet here you’ve dragged him down to your level and he’s forgotten himself. That’s what I have to say to you.”

Lance gawked to hear all these things come out of Orwen’s mouth. Sure, the man had always been the prickly sort that had trouble making friends, but this was going too far. His eyes swapped between the two of them as his mouth flapped, failing to produce words.

Bael simply blinked, shrugging his shoulders as he sipped his water turned sugar syrup. “I see. You don’t mince words, I can respect that in a person.”

Unsettling silence now reigned over the table, meanwhile Lance was regretting every single little decision that led him up to this particular moment. He was never coming to this cafe for the rest of his life even if this timeline became eradicated.

The waitress returned with their respective orders, her customer service training preventing her from acknowledging the heavy atmosphere that had settled in around the table. Lance eyed his cucumber sandwiches and crepes with assorted fruits in syrup with desperation and greed. Bael gratefully accepted his platter of fried meats and a specially ordered bowl of fruit drizzled with honey.

“Excuse me, miss? I see you’re carrying a pot of coffee. Might you leave that here?” Bael asked in an overly pleasant voice, sounding much unlike his previously irritated tone.

The waitress was surprised by his request, but in an effort to please she obliged with a kind nod. While Lance occupied himself with eating and Orwen watched in silence. Bael pulled a mug from a stack on the table and poured himself a cup with liberally added cream and sugar. Curiously, he lifted the lid off of the pot and peered at the contents.

“Tsk, I can’t believe it. I think there’s a bug in this coffee.” Bael lifted his head up. “Hey, you. You look like you’ve got good eyes, can you look in here to tell me if this is a bug or not?” he asked Orwen.

Orwen clicked his tongue and scooted his chair over to look into the coffee pot as well. “Some of your muck must have gotten into your eyes, because there’s not a speck of anything but coffee in this pot.”

“Really? Take a closer look then.” As he said this, Bael quickly lifted his hand and twisted, pouring the remaining scalding hot coffee on top of Orwen’s head.

Immediately Orwen fell back in his chair and landed on the floor of the patio. His hands flew up to his face in a sorry attempt to prevent searing liquid from scorching his flesh. Passersby began to stare, with wait staff from the cafe rushing over at the sound of commotion.

Bael, in the meantime, took a sip from his own mug then gnawed on a piece of bacon. “Fuck you, you pompous shitstain.”

Lance was reduced to blinking in confusion at what just played out. His food lay forgotten on his plate as he stared daggers at Bael across the table. He was met with not a single ounce of shame in the other man’s eyes.

He could really use one of those spontaneous unexpected deaths right about now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lance just isn't allowed to have nice things. It's illegal.


	16. A Lonely Road

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Squeezing another update out just before the weekend wraps up! This chapter is also coming out the week of my birthday, which was this past Thursday. Consider this one a gift from me to you!

The rage came quickly before being snuffed with sickening guilt.

With fistfuls of sandwiches in hand (and tragically abandoned crepes) Lance dragged Bael away by the arm from the scene of the crime. At first he resisted with a snarl, but relented as more people crowded around them. Bael’s own eyes expressed his immense discomfort, so he snatched what he could carry in hand and followed Lance’s lead.

After quickly leaving an abundant pile of rupees on the table, Lance shifted between jogging and full on sprinting in the direction of the northern district where he lived. His mouth was filled with food, and if that wasn’t the case he would be cursing like a sailor. Instead he focused on leading them down less trodden roadways to avoid any unwanted pursuants. Not that he knew if there were any, but after assaulting someone he would assume a city guard would be chasing the perpetrator.

Eventually they arrived at the Wisteria estate where Lance dropped his hands to his knees as he heaved to catch his breath. Bael appeared to be unphased by the exertion, only wearing the same angered expression he had moments prior. Lance couldn’t yet form the words he wanted to say, instead fixating on just how much he wanted to wash away the filth and memories that lived on his body now. The melting pot of emotions that roiled in his stomach was provided an additional ingredient of disgust.

Without even addressing Bael, Lance just walked into his home without a word. He didn’t care if he climbed up into his room or followed behind him. Hell, he could just leave for all Lance cared. Not that Bael would, he believed. The fates kept them intertwined, for better or for worse.

As Lance stepped across the threshold, he heard a feminine gasp as a metal platter clattered to the floor. Ah, right, there was a good chance Abigail would see him in his current sorry state. Last time his clothes had been cleaned up to a degree, but this time he appeared just as rancid as he felt on the outside.

“Easy, Abi. I’m alright. It was raining this morning and Oberon got spooked, tossing me in the mud,” he lied with effortless ease. As he continued to weave more webs of deceit, the more it became second nature.

“Lance Arthur Wisteria, where in Termina have you been!?” she shouted, fumbling to pick up the platter.

Instinctively Lance recoiled; being berated by Abi never got easier, despite his age. “I’ll explain later, okay? Right now all I want is a bath and fresh clothes, surely you can understand that.” As he said this he slowly began to creep forward in an attempt to sidestep around her before she could flag him down.

“Hmph. Well, you’re too old for me to worry about keeping up with your antics. Your father’s been fit to be tied for the past three days you’ve been gone. We never even knew you left until you didn’t come home the first night. At least have the decency to leave a note for us. Adult to be married or not, your family is going to worry about you if you turn up missing all of a sudden,” she lectured, voice breathy as she strained from bending over.

Lance was already midway up the staircase by the time she finished what she had to say. He tossed up a half-hearted wave before disappearing into the darkness of the upper floor. His bedroom was quiet and empty; historically it was how he preferred it to be. On the dresser nearest to the door he spied his father’s sun mask, which triggered a vivid memory of burgundy hair. It whipped in the wind, obscuring a grinning optimistic face of a dear friend. The thought of her made him clutch at his chest.

He picked up the mask and stroked a single finger down the center of the design, collecting a fine layer of dust. His fingers dug into the firm wood, threatening to embed splinters in them. “I don’t deserve the honor this mask bestows upon me. My love is- it’s all just a sham. I’m no sun in search of my moon, I’m just a dying star moments from ruin.”

The deeper he stared into the hollow black eyes of the sun mask, the harder he squeezed. A vein bulged on his forehead from the intensity of his glare. His hand reared back and flung the mask across the room with an infuriated shout.

Water spiraled down the drain, yet Lance’s mental afflictions remained. He lingered under the showerhead until it turned icy cold. His teeth chattered as he hurriedly stepped out to reclaim warmth. He had no grasp on how much time passed, feeling delirious and out of body. The light from the window indicated the sun still remained high in the sky, but it felt as if hours had gone by since he returned home.

Lance dressed in his favorite nightwear and prepared to sleep until kingdom come. He escaped the suffocating steam room that his bathroom had become to see that Bael indeed had snuck into his bedroom after all. He sat on the floor at the opposite end of the room from his bedroom, staring at the wall as if he intended to burrow a hole into it with his look alone. Nyx rested in his lap, with Lance unable to tell if she was awake or asleep.

Instead of broaching the elephant in the room Lance flopped face first onto his bed with a moan and sank into the comforting mattress. He pulled the pillow closer to his face to burrow into, sighing into the soft texture. As his legs maneuvered into his preferred resting position, they knocked into something hard causing it to be pushed off the bed.

He winced with a groan before looking to see whatever it was. It was the sun mask, now with pieces of twine wrapped around it in a few places. Lance picked it up with a tentative hand, running his thumb over the messy wrapping job. A finger traced along a newly formed line down from the top to the right cheek.

“I saw that your special mask got broken, so I tried to fix it for you. Sorry, it turned out pretty ugly,” Bael stated, eyes still focused forward.

Lance let the mask fall back to the floor with a clatter, noisily flapping his lips as he rolled back over to face away from Bael. “You should have just left it like that. That mask is a waste in hands like mine.”

Bael didn’t respond, and Lance assumed it would be left at that as they mired in their respective misery. What Lance did hear, however, was the sound of him standing up and creeping closer to the bed. He then saw the sun mask plop in front of his face from behind.

“When I asked you what this thing was you told me an impassioned story about your human traditions of love and marriage. The look in your eyes was of a man filled with desire. I don’t know what happened to change that feeling, but if this thing means that much to you you should take care of it,” Bael said, his voice soft and emotionless.

“Why do you care?” Lance shot back with ire creeping into his throat.

“It’s something you believe in. I may not fathom it, but I have immense respect for aspirations.”

Lance bit his lower lip as the raging storm of his heart threatened to burst from his chest. His arms wrapped tightly around himself as he began to curl into a ball. There were many beasts upon his back he needed to thwart, but there was one in particular that needed to be laid to rest right away. If he didn’t it was going to eat him from the inside out.

“Hey, Bael?” he asked, his worries apparent in the quiet creak of his voice.

Bael grunted in acknowledgment.

“Have you ever been in love before?”

He did not answer, and Lance wished it were possible to reach out and pull the words back into his mouth. What was done was done, however, and he pinched his eyes shut. Perhaps this confirmation was what he needed to cease the compulsive, invasive machinations of his imagination.

“I don’t know,” replied Bael with heavy uncertainty.

That was not the answer Lance sought, nor was it the one he feared that the fiery lashes would render him to shreds. Cautiously he allowed his body to partially unfurl, but still intently facing away from the presence that tormented him so. A tentative finger reached out to caress the lips carved on the mask, reminiscing the long lost taste of Bael.

“I see. Has someone ever been in love with you?”

“That I do believe to be true, unfortunately,” he admitted quickly and with certainty.

_I suppose I wouldn’t be the first to be captured in the maelstrom of your charms. A life as long as yours must have many a broken heart littered behind it._

“I’ve been in love. For a long time, actually. At first it was quiet and dull, only making itself known when I had to watch them be with someone else. Eventually, I just accepted I was meant to linger in those feelings for the rest of my days with no recourse. Never did my heart dare to wander, and because of that I thought my feelings were always admirable.”

Lance paused, waiting with bated breath for how Bael might respond. Truly, Lance wanted nothing more than to look on his face and find sympathy, perhaps even an ounce of understanding. Now knowing emotional validation, it was growing into a perilous addiction. Still, he remained steadfast, not finding any evidence he was worthy of any of it.

“I’ve now realized that the actions I’ve taken out of love are not admirable, and in fact I would say they’re reprehensible,” he continued at Bael’s persistent silence. “Now I- now I’m confronted with the realization that my stalwart love might be fading. Replaced with something strange and new. It frightens me.”

Lance barked a nervous laugh that his hand failed to cover before it escaped into the air. “You say you know nothing of feeling love, but have you known this feeling? Believing that you know yourself, then realizing it’s all something else entirely. You’re not the you you thought you were, and so you’re letting somebody down because of it. Even if they don’t know it, nor will they ever. Because they never saw the real you that you now know, and you hope to the heavens they never will.”

He didn’t know what possessed him at this point. One moment he was fine, suppressing the swells of his heartache, with simple pleasures like food enough to lift his mood. The next thing he knew his mind was swallowed in darkness while he struggled to breach from the depths. Lance mentally cursed Orwen for pushing his emotional stability off kilter; he had been a painful reminder that Lance could not know peace.

The bed dipped as a new weight pressed onto it and Lance’s body seized. He braced for Bael’s touch, but it was a dream that would not come true. Bael laid down beside him with their bodies a hair’s breadth apart. The heat radiating from him was the only reminder that Lance was not alone.

“Yes,” Bael answered bluntly. “I’m very familiar with believing myself to be something more than I truly am. You carry heavy burdens forced upon you by others as well, don’t you?”

“I have been for a long time it seems. Today is just the day I realized I was carrying them all alone. I used to think when I had nowhere else to turn my friends would be there. Now I see that I’m just alone, and probably have been for a long time,” Lance answered gloomily.

“How can you say that?” Bael asked sharply, a spark of something unkind in his words.

“Because it’s the truth.”

“Maybe you’ve forgotten, but two humans accompanied you into the woods that fateful night. That seems like the picture of dependability to me. Two people die- well, you understand what I’m getting at.” Bael’s voice faltered as he tapered off.

“Thane is just always happy to flaunt his masculinity. Plus my father would have made their lives miserable if something happened to me. Since it would send my mother into despair, naturally.”

“If you don’t feel close to them, what of that woman at the farm?”

Lance’s breathing hitched and his eyes shut tight. “I used to think we shared our burdens, but I see now I’m just hurting her with false gallantry.”

Bael audibly forced air through his nose, which Lance couldn’t decide if it indicated anger or contemplation. “You’re talking about a lot of personal matters I don’t have context for. I think I can say if the company you keep holds similar ideals as you they would be loyal friends.”

A nervous laugh escaped Lance in response. “You say that, but one of my closest friends is the man you met today. Orwen knows things about me I wouldn’t even tell my mother. Yet he does something so pointedly to hurt me I don’t know what to think anymore.”

“Wait. I understood you knew that man, but you’re telling me that’s one of your _closest_ friends?” Bael spat venomously.

Lance stiffened at the ire in his voice. It had been some time since he felt fear in Bael’s presence, but the emotion returned in full force now. He wanted to inch closer to the other side of the bed away from Bael’s anger, but Lance was frozen in place.

“Here I was convinced you were a different sort of privileged human, but like I said the company you keep is indicative of who you are as a person. If you can be close to someone like that, then you probably aren’t so dissimilar after all.”

“That’s not fair!” Lance shouted, heart pumping in his chest as his adrenaline rose. “I can be friends with someone and not condone their actions. I have _never_ expressed an agreement with Orwen’s distaste for the lower class. In fact, I’ve always done my best to show him why what he thinks is not right.”

Bael sprang up from the bed and began pacing the floor several steps away. “It doesn’t work like that, Lance. By your continued companionship and confidence in someone whose core values differ from yours, you are complacent in their behavior. On the surface you say you don’t like it, but deep down you really find it no more distasteful than someone who prefers winter to your love of summer.”

Finally Lance’s eyes found Bael after abruptly raising up to look at the person who so suddenly turned on him. He did not find a man whose body language and face betrayed anger, no, Bael was frightening for an entirely different reason.

He paced in a pattern reminiscent of a caged animal desperate for escape. His eyes were wide, panicked, and without a trace of composure. Nyx trailed behind him, having been so silent during this exchange Lance had dared to believe perhaps she was not here. Each time she tried to fly faster to reach his side Bael quickened his pace to escape her comfort.

“Bael, are you alright?” Lance questioned, fear dissipating into worry.

Bael locked eyes with him for the first time in this exchange, and he appeared to be teetering on the edge of hysterics. “Oh, what a fool I was to think I might walk in your light, Lance. It was a short, wondrous fantasy, but now it must come to an end. A beast like myself can’t fathom marring your flawless image. It’s out of the question.”

Lance quickly rose to his knees, shuffling to the edge of the bed. He planted his hands on the footrest as he leaned forward. His heart felt like it was going to burst from his chest if things persisted in this direction. “Where in the world is this coming from, Bael? I’m sorry that my friend was cruel to you. Do you not know how much that hurt me, as well? I’m not as brave as you, I can’t leap to fight at a moment’s notice.”

The other man heaved, the rise and fall of his shoulders was drastic. “You don’t need to apologize to me; I was in the wrong for forgetting my place in this world. We’re from different worlds, you and I, we shan’t pretend it’s otherwise anymore.”

“Bael, you’re just upset. Now, before you say something you’ll-” Nyx interjected but was harshly interrupted.

“Stop. Commanding me,” Bael lashed out. As he said this, an unsettling energy seeped into Lance’s body that made him feel nauseous. His vision began to tint gray, and he could almost swear he noticed Bael’s eyes flash an unusual color.

“Nyx is right, we’re both upset and I think you’re saying things you don’t really mean.” Lance stood up from the bed, and as he did this Bael visibly flinched as he watched him closely. With arms extended, Lance attempted to pull Bael into a hug. This was the language Bael spoke, he recalled Nyx having told him once. Lance just needed to speak to Bael in a way he understood.

However, before Lance was able to encircle the other man in his embrace a hand clenched around his throat and another pushed into his stomach. He was forced into stumbling backwards, yelling as it happened but was swiftly stifled.

Soon there was no floor left to walk upon and Lance fell backwards onto the bed. Bael was over him, straddling his waist as he carefully applied pressure to his throat. One of Lance’s hands tried and failed to pull at the arm holding him down, while the other was pinned by Bael’s other hand.

With no path of escape, Lance’s body froze and his eyes locked intently with his captor. His jaw hung open but no words were spoken, lest he be the victim of retaliation.

Bael’s eyes remained feral, more like those of a wild animal than a human being. The typical vibrant, crystal blue of his eyes had dimmed into a dull gray. His mouth parted slightly, allowing the sweet coffee flavor of his breath to fill Lance’s lungs. The fingers that held Lance quivered, letting up just enough so that breathing and speaking wouldn’t be impossible.

“Poor little Lance,” Bael crooned, voice shaky, “all the possessions one could want in the world, but your cries are lost in your sprawling manor.”

“You showed me your truth, Bael,” Lance gasped. “I know this isn’t what you really want. You don’t have to push me away because of whatever stupid idea you’ve got in your head.”

The hand on his throat tightened but not enough to hurt. “You don’t know what I want, human. You have absolutely no idea what my heart wants.” Bael’s hand relented, and when Lance didn’t squirm out of his grasp he traced the tip of his thumb at the base of Lance’s chin.

“I know you care about me,” Lance retorted.

“A truth that cannot persist.”

“Is that it then? You’re just going to throw away something that makes you happy for no reason?”

“We’re going to continue to work together, as I must continue to watch over you. No more playing pretend, though I did enjoy our time together. We’ll be returning to Ikana City tomorrow, so be up bright and early.” Bael ignored all protests as he removed himself from the bed and walked over to the window. Without a word of farewell he jumped outside, closing the window behind him.

Lance rose to catch a glimpse of him as he left, but not a trace of Bael could be seen. As his thoughts began to race over what just occurred, he took a few deep breaths to try and settle his nerves. Originally he planned to just sleep off his misery, but he couldn’t remain in this bedroom any longer. The scent of Bael’s breath continued to linger, making him ill.

He needed to see his mother.

* * *

Bael had sprinted off to a nearby park in Clock Town that would provide him with water as well as a place to lay low. He climbed into a tall tree obscured from sight of passersby to rest for the time being. Continuing to be in these clothes wasn’t his first choice, but he couldn’t rightly bathe in the middle of the day. That would come with the cover of night.

He laid back on the bough, arms crossed behind his head and legs overlapped as he assumed a comfortable position. Just as he began to close his eyes to rest and try to forget, the burning sensation of a fierce stare made him peek open an eye.

“I can’t believe that was your plan this whole time. You really acted like a loon, and I don’t think you’re going to be able to come back from this one so easily,” Nyx lectured.

Bael scoffed with a roll of his eyes. “That’s the point, Nyx. It needs to be impossible to come back from. Intimacy was making me weak and you saw what came of it; I need to be strong for him to survive this.”

“We’re _all_ going to survive this, Bael. Don’t talk like that.”

“Ideally, but I’m not optimistic about it,” he replied with a weak smile. “I want to protect you both, more than anything else in this world.”

Nyx shook, and Bael so painfully wished to hold her in his hand and comfort her as she had his whole life. He couldn’t bring himself to do it, however, as he believed himself only to be a poison to others.

“You know that boy’s falling in love with you, don’t you?” she asked suddenly.

“Yes,” Bael answered, heart aching.

“And you know you’re already deep in it too.”

“I am.”

“He’s going to want a life with you after all of this, don’t you see that? Pushing him away is just destroying the happiness you _both_ could have.”

Bael then looked up with both eyes open, took a deep breath, and smiled at her with watery eyes.

“You know as well as I, my life isn’t mine to give.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hm, maybe gifts are supposed to feel nice and not miserable.


	17. I Can't Deny You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just want to give a thank you to those that have read this far and kept up with this story. We've reached a point that addresses matters near and dear to my heart, and knowing people out there can read my words regarding it fills me with a lot of joy.

It was midday when Lance paid a visit to East Clock Town’s most highly esteemed hospital. This was much earlier than he or anyone else had ever been able to pay his mother a visit, but current events necessitated it. He dearly hoped the hospital wouldn’t turn him away for arriving before visitation hours, but believed deep down his relations would let him get his way.

He worried his lower lip as he pushed back compulsive thoughts about what just happened in his bedroom. It was difficult to parse and organize his thoughts on the matter, and frankly even just understanding how he was supposed to feel about it was a challenge. Was he angry for being talked down to by someone who pretended to understand his life? Perhaps it was sadness from knowing someone he’d become exceptionally close to wanted to throw him away like refuse. No, neither of those was quite right. Betrayal most aptly suited this emotion that made bile rise to the back of his throat. His chest stung with every agonizing breath and he wanted to die.

However, now death even represented a betrayal to him. If he met an untimely end, the next moment his eyes opened that man would be there. Once a reassurance to know he would never be alone again, his guardian now felt more akin to a ghoul. One with their claws sunk deep into the flesh of his heart, squeezing tightly but never allowing the pain to cease.

“Excuse me, Mr. Wisteria?” a voice called.

Lance jolted as he spun on his heels. A young nurse stood behind him pushing a cart full of dirty dishes. The bags under eyes were pronounced, and she gazed up at him with impatience.

“Right, pardon me,” he yelped, quickly side stepping out of the way. Now that he had resumed awareness of reality, Lance realized he was in the entirely wrong wing of the facility. With a heavy sigh he righted his course and found his mother’s room.

“Good afternoon, Mother,” he quietly announced as he closed the door behind himself.

Margaret Wisteria looked up with sunken eyes and gaunt skin. Lance instinctively recoiled at the sight of her debilitated state. To ensure she didn’t notice his reaction, he swiftly resumed walking to her bedside with a large smile and open arms. She appeared startled by his arrival, but nevertheless her mouth turned up into a weak grin to greet her son.

“I decided spur-of-the-moment to drop in to see you a little earlier than normal. Hope I’m not disturbing your rest or anything,” he said, face burrowed into her long caramel hair. It was a favorite place of his to be, having grown up a sensitive child that frequently needed his mother’s comfort. His own hair was kept long in a similar fashion to hers, hoping one day he might be someone’s safe haven. It was foolish in hindsight after all he’d endured; perhaps he’d outgrown his long hair by now.

“Nonsense. You just caught me before time for my medication. Sorry if I frightened you with the way I look right now,” she answered with worry in her blue eyes.

Lance stroked the side of her head before placing a kiss on her forehead. He grabbed the well-worn chair he always sat in, pulling it closer to her bedside to remain within arm’s reach. His eyes wandered to the bedside table covered in his mother’s personal belongings. The centerpiece of this table was a family portrait from Lance’s childhood, whose metal frame was dotted with faded tarnish. Many of her effects were covered in a layer of dust; things like her books, knitting, and a box with a half completed jigsaw puzzle.

In that pristine photo Lance was about the age of twelve, with several missing front teeth in his jubilant grin with a messy shock of auburn hair. His mother was ten years younger and full of boundless radiance. Now older, Lance could reflect on such a photo and notice the dark bags beginning to form around her eyes that makeup poorly covered. There was no way to know when her health began to decline; it took her collapsing one day as her stomach voided blood to admit defeat to her illness.

Margaret curled her knobby fingers around the top of his hands, pulling him from his deep reflection. Despite her deterioration she managed to muster a playful smile as she clicked her tongue at him. “So, when are you going to tell me what you’ve been doing the last few days?”

“Frankly, I was hoping we could just gloss over that and talk about something else,” he replied with a wince.

Her fingers and thumb grazed over the soft skin of his hand, and her smile turned down into a contemplative frown. “If you really don’t want to tell me you don’t have to. But I’m your mother, Lance. I’ve been able to tell something was wrong with you at a glance since before you could talk.”

“Wish I’d inherited that. I think I’m closer to Father’s impeccable talent to say all the wrong things with little regard for another person’s feelings,” Lance said, voice growing lower as he spoke.

“Are you kidding me?” she asked, voice pitching up. “This is coming from the same person who as a little boy could cry for any little old thing. Be it squishing a bug or seeing a couple fight in the market, you’ve always had a bleeding heart. Just like your mother.”

His smile crinkled his eyes as she reminded him of the ways they were similar. He bit his lower lip as he felt his eyes begin to water and his breathing became shallow. Margaret continued stroking his hand, giving him constant reassurance.

“Hey, Mom? Can I ask you a question?”

“Always, sweetheart.”

Lance took a ragged breath as his reddening eyes shifted to face the wall away from her sight. “How did you know Father was the one? The right one to marry, at least.”

There was a heavy pause and Lance was uncertain how his mother felt about the question. He’d heard countless romanticized tales of how his father whisked his mother off her feet when they were young and had been in love ever since. Yet, as he grew older, Lance had drawn the conclusion that that narrative must have been fabricated. He wanted the truth or at the very least felt entitled to it.

“I take that to mean you want a real grown-up answer, and not just a nice story to help with your nerves,” she said solemnly.

Lance gave a slow singular nod and maintained his stare at the pristine snow-white wall.

“Oh, where do I begin? You’re twenty-two now, so I reckon I was about fifteen or sixteen when I met your father.”

“Isn’t he several years older than you?” Lance interrupted.

“Hm, yes that would make him about your age when we met.”

Lance visibly shivered. He could only imagine himself fraternizing with a young maiden barely past puberty. It was already a struggle for him to get along with people his own age, much less some immature teenager. Disgusting.

“Shudder all you want. I’ve just always had a thing for older people,” she replied in the midst of weakened laughter. “That’s probably another thing you got from me considering your betrothed.”

Oh, you have no idea.

“We’re getting off topic,” he said.

“Anyway, when I was a pretty young thing I caught the eye of many a man, young and old. I had boyfriends coming and going, much to the chagrin of your grandma and grandpa -bless their souls. Your father was amongst the many trying to court me, but for the longest time I always turned him down.”

“Must have eventually worn you down I imagine?” he said, already irritated with his young father.

“Not quite. You’re going to need to keep the commentary to yourself if you want me to finish the story, kiddo,” she gently reprimanded.

Lance threw up his hands, admitting defeat.

“Now, as often pretty girls do with pretty boys, I did fool around with them” -she pinched the back of his hand despite being unable to see his queasy expression- “if you’re not mature enough for the grown-up version we can shelve it for another day. Maybe when you’ve laid with your new wife you’ll be more mature about it.”

His whole body shivered, and he rapidly shook his head. “No- no, sorry. I’ll stop.”

“When I was about sixteen, I became pregnant with my boyfriend at the time. His name was Simon, a handsome boy, a couple of years ahead of me in school. Well, much like myself, Simon wasn’t ready to be a parent. So he called me a whore and broke up with me, denying the baby was his.”

As she paused, either to let the words sink in or taking a break from prolonged speaking, Lance’s hand pulled back abruptly from his mother’s grasp. His head tilted down and to the side towards her. “Wait, are you trying to tell me Father isn’t my real father?”

“Just let me finish, sweetheart,” she whispered. “My parents were begging the boy’s family to allow their son to marry me to save my dignity, but they refuted us every time. Our family wasn’t poor but we weren’t well off either. Lacking in a proper dowry and Simon’s refusal to own up to fatherhood, nothing came of it.”

His mother then released a deep sigh, and Lance could hear her shifting in the bed. “I was about two months pregnant, sick as a dog, and your father came calling to my home. I wasn’t in the habit of lying, so I told him the truth. It was my assumption that once he knew I was ruined he would leave me alone; I was wrong, however. Arthur took my hands in his, worry written all over his face and asked me to marry him right away.”

“My father, the most unaffectionate man I’ve ever met in my life, wanted to marry you, despite all of that?” Lance asked. In his stupor, he turned to look at his mother with his face screwed up in confusion.

Margaret, on the other hand, looked vibrant despite the lengthy tale. The story was taking a great toll on her stamina, but it was a tale he could see meant a great deal to her. “He did and I said yes. What other choice did I have? He was well off working as a lawman, already owned a home, and my parents were thrilled. Within minutes we had a wedding planned for two weeks later. Arthur, my darling, was so excited for his new family he built a crib in the time we still lived apart during our brief engagement. The same crib you slept in as a baby, actually.”

“I don’t understand. The years don’t add up; I should be two years older if this story is true. Do I have a secret older sibling? And you tell me Father was so excited and loving, but I don’t even remember him holding me as a child. If I didn’t see how much he loved you, I would think him incapable of affection,” Lance responded, voice raising as he spoke. The more his mother told him, the more he felt he’d been robbed of a loving father.

“Three days before the wedding was when the bleeding started,” she said, eyes pointed down as her hands began to fidget. Her lips curled inward and quivered, voice losing its luster. “I bled and ached for days; it felt like I was dying. At the time I felt it would have been better off if I had.”

“I don’t understand. What happened?” Lance asked.

“I lost the baby.”

As his mother’s tears began to shed, Lance hurriedly leaned forward and embraced her slight form. She wept into his chest and clung to the fabric of his shirt. He had no idea how to comfort her for this type of pain, so he resorted to stroking her head. Just as she had done his whole life.

They stayed that way for a while, mother and son clinging together. Yet despite the close proximity, it felt as if they were further apart than ever. He did not know this woman the way he’d always thought; the way he’d always assumed.

“I was left with a choice,” she murmured, mouth muffled. “Most of the town didn’t know about the pregnancy since my family wasn’t an important one. I could call off the wedding and pretend none of it happened, because I didn’t feel true love for him at the time.”

Lance pulled away to arm’s length, keeping his hands on her shoulders. “You decided to stay then,” he said.

“I decided to stay,” she repeated. “I chose to be with someone that would love me no matter what in the hopes I would one day feel the same.”

She wiped the remaining moisture from her eyes and began reclaiming her composure. Lance pulled back to his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t you ever wonder what might have happened had you not settled for Father?” he questioned, worrying at his lower lip while tapping his foot.

“I used to,” she answered.

His stomach sank to the floor, but he remained perfectly silent.

“I miscarried a second time within the first year of our marriage,” she continued, a statement that made Lance’s eyes grow wide. “However, with the third I was blessed. I gave birth to a beautiful, healthy baby boy. My little miracle,” she spoke fondly, eyes crinkling as she smiled at him.

“Did- did Dad hold me when I was born? Did he love me then?” Lance blurted, causing Margaret to gasp.

“Of course he did. You were his son, and he’s loved you since the day we knew you were coming into the world.”

“Sometimes, Mom, I think Father dislikes me because he knows something is wrong with me. He knows something about me that I never knew up until recently,” he said, sinking into the chair as his arms dropped and eyes sank to the floor.

A weak, sickly hand slapped the top of his own. It didn’t hurt, but the sensation reflexively made him recoil with a tiny shout. Upon looking up he saw his mother’s eyes were fearful and her body was visibly shaking.

“Why would you say such a thing? What has Arthur said to you?” she half-yelled, spittle flying as her voice rose.

“No- no, he hasn’t said anything to me. He doesn’t need to. Father has always made it pretty clear he’s not fond of me, but I’m beginning to feel like it’s justified.”

She appeared to settle after that, taking several deep breaths to help herself calm down. In his entire life he could only recall a few times his mother’s voice raised at him. Majority of them were in childhood when he poorly told white lies to get out of trouble. Once she became enfeebled, it wasn’t something that ever happened, to him or to anyone else. Even so, this was different. She wasn’t angry so much as she was terrified of something, but he had no inclination as to what. He desperately wished to ask, but did not want to risk her pushing him away for it. Lance couldn’t tolerate another knife in his back.

“I wish I knew how to help you two see eye to eye. It’s foolish to spend the best years of your life at odds with each other for no good reason. You’re all he’s going to have when I’m g-”

“Don’t. Please,” he begged, eyes pinching shut as his forehead dropped to rest on his propped hands.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m not giving up; I promise.”

Silence permeated the room as loving warmth gave way to cold uncertainty. He’d asked a question hoping to feel more confident, yet here he was filled with more doubt than he knew how to bear. Perhaps, just this once, he could be forthright. She’d shared with him a deep and agonizing scar he never knew existed, yet he thought no differently of her for it. Was he permitted to deserve the same?

“Hey, Mom? Can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course, dear. You can always tell me anything.”

“I’ve been in love with Aryn for a long time. I know I told you it was something we realized recently, but I’ve been in love with her since I was thirteen years old.”

He looked up to check her response. She appeared to be optimistic about what he was telling her, yet aware there was an incoming ‘but’ to ruin the sentiment. Lance then resumed hiding his face in his hands as his upper body curled inward.

“She doesn’t love me, never has. Aryn’s actually in love with someone else but her parents won’t let her be with them. I offered to marry her as a favor, so she wouldn’t be betrothed to someone of her parents’ choosing. So she could be with the one she loves in secret. It took me only till recently to realize that the real reason I did it was in the hopes one day she would love me instead.” He then stopped to bark a laugh as his breathing began to quicken. “Father and I aren’t so different after all. Just like you said.”

“Lance…” she whispered, as if she were questioning if she was allowed to speak his name.

“To make matters worse now that I’m engaged, I’ve started to become confused. I think I’m starting to fall for someone new. Someone I’m not supposed to be in love with because it’s wrong.”

“Lance, if you’ve changed your mind about the wedding it’s alright. I’m not mad at-”

“Please, Mother, let me finish,” he begged.

She acquiesced to his request.

“While growing up I never understood the implication I was only supposed to fancy girls. I never really felt myself attracted to them, at least until I knew their heart. Once I feel like I know someone and they know me, something just clicks into place. That I want to belong to them, heart and soul. I just assumed that was what it felt like for any other man.”

He paused to catch his breath, but also in fear of what he was close to admitting. His body quivered, and his mouth began to dry. The leaping off point was mere inches from his feet, and he was closing his eyes ready to plummet into the sea. Once he was under, he wasn’t certain if returning to the surface would be an option.

“I recently came to know a man. He’s callous and knows what to say to get under my skin. When I first met him, I hated him, to be perfectly honest. Then he opened up to me and showed me his real self. For the first time in a long time I trusted someone else to show them my real self too. He saved me, that man. Saved me in ways he doesn’t realize.”

Lance felt a hand rest upon his knee and he let go. The tears came first, followed soon after by agonized sobs that tore through his chest. He lifted his face up to face her, fluids dripping down his cheeks and over his lips. His mother looked near to tears herself.

“I’ve fallen for a man, Mom. Is there something wrong with me?”

As he heard his own words spoken aloud, a vivid memory consumed his mind. He remembered being sixteen and hanging out with his best friend on the ranch, secreted away in the nearby woods and up to no good. The antiseptic scent of the hospital faded into the smell of tobacco, cheap liquor, and a young lady’s perfume. Visions of sterile white walls shifted to vibrant greenery and spacious pastures.

_“Hey, Lancelot, if I tell you a secret will you keep your mouth shut?” asked a pimple-faced Aryn barely into adulthood._

_“S-sure, ‘course I will,” Lance replied, a gangly teen coughing after his first puff of the cigarette._

_“Okay, but if you tell anybody I’ll have to kill you. I’m serious.”_

_Lance nodded furiously, poorly hiding his anticipation._

_“Alright.” She took a swig of the whiskey bottle she’d smuggled to their meetup. “I like someone.”_

_“You- you do?” Lance’s heart began to race._

_“Yeah. I’m thinking about asking them out, but I’m pretty sure they’ll turn me down.”_

_“Turn you down?” Lance asked, a grin spreading across his face. Feeling bold, he took a deep puff of the cigarette only to erupt into a horrendous coughing fit. Surprisingly, despite how much of an embarrassing display it was, Aryn didn’t laugh._

_“Yeah. Her name’s Irene,” she said, blush rising in her cheeks._

_“Oh, I see,” he said, face dropping to the ground. “Wait, Irene? Isn’t that the girl whose dad owns the transport company your family uses?”_

_“Yep.” She took another swig._

_“Just so I understand what you’re saying, you like a girl?”_

_“Ye-up. Is that a problem?” She furrowed her brows in an attempt to be intimidating, but even Lance could see her hand holding the bottle shake furiously._

_“No, of course not,” he assured._

_“Good. I’d have to beat you up otherwise,” she responded with a nervous laugh, but soon after her eyes shifted away from him to stare into the depths of the woods. “I’m pretty sure she’s got a crush on some boy that works at her dad’s company. So my chances are pretty low of her going out with me,” she said with a mournful voice. “Thanks, Lance, for not thinking something is wrong with me. Mama and Papa would raise hell no doubt, so it’s nice to have you to talk to about it.”_

_“Don’t worry about it,” he answered, struggling to bury his disappointment deep in the recesses of his heart. “I know what it’s like to have feelings like that that you can’t talk about. It sucks, but having just one person know helps.”_

_“Wait a minute, are you like me?”_

_“What- what do you mean?”_

_“Do you like boys the way I like girls?”_

_He began denying her assumption but closed his mouth immediately. Truly, Lance only ever liked one person in his whole life, and she was sitting right next to him. No one else, girl or boy, ever caught his eye. The thought of telling her the truth of what he meant terrified him more than this lie._

_“Some- something like that, yeah. I guess. It’s complicated.”_

_“If you ever get a crush on someone, you have to tell me immediately. Promise?” She reached out her hand to him with only her pinky extended._

_“Promise,” he answered weakly with his pinky interlocked with hers._

He’s pulled back into the present by the touch of a tender hand caressing the top of his head. When his full awareness returns he realizes he’s curled up into his mother’s side laying on the bed with her. Her other hand was rubbing small circles on his back, humming all the while.

Lance grew nauseous and began to remove himself from her side, but she resisted and hugged him closer. His body turned to jelly as she soothed him down from panic.

“Mom? Does Father hate people like me?”

“If he does, he will never hate you.”

Lance inhaled sharply. “Do you still love me?”

“I love you more than there are stars in the sky and fish in the sea. I want you to be happy. If a man makes you happy, then he better count his blessings he has the love of such a sweet human being. I would love to meet the lucky feller.”

He gently smiled and hugged his mother close. “I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too, Lance.”

Lance departed shortly after when time drew near for his mother’s medication. He hadn’t the heart to tell her the object of his affection had violently pushed him away. Her confirmation that she didn’t despise him was a fantasy he dared not believe to come true and did not want to sully it. No need to discuss his engagement either, as that was an encroaching disaster he was coming to regret.

After retrieving Oberon from the restaurant where he’d been abandoned the last few hours (to which Lance apologized with many pets and kind words), he returned home at dinner time. Instead of making an appearance at the dinner table, he requested to have it brought to his room. It was with great trepidation he even raised a hand to turn the knob to his room, frightened of all the possibilities of what could lay behind it.

The room was empty, with not a single object out of place from when he left it prior. He returned to his comforting night clothes and nestled into bed. His dinner arrived, and he made a few small efforts to eat, but in the end it went half finished. He fell asleep soon after before Abi returned to retrieve his plate.

* * *

Lance was roused from his slumber with a sharp jab to his side and his back making impact with the floor. Quickly he shot up, eyes frantic as he looked for the source of the assault. Ah, it was Bael. He should have known.

“I told you to be up early, but it looks like even that request was too much for you,” Bael snarled.

After looking out the window, Lance confirmed it was still the middle of the night. There was not even an inkling of sunrise in the dark sky, only shimmering stars in the endless pitch.

“Our definitions of early don’t exactly align. Also, there was no need to push me off the bed. I’m willing to cooperate with you, so stop being an ass.” Lance winced as he rose off the floor and steadied himself with a hand on the bed. His eyes were still encrusted with sleep and his breath tasted foul, adding to his irritation.

“Sorry I didn’t wake you with a kiss, sleeping beauty,” Bael spat, in combination with an odd sound that Lance couldn’t recognize coming from his hands.

Lance blinked to try and clear his vision. “What are you holding onto?”

Bael returned an unsavory chuckle. “Oh? This? Found it on your bookshelf; it’s quite an entertaining read.”

Hurriedly Lance wiped his eyes clean and willed himself to focus. In Bael’s hands he was roughly flipping through the pages of a book. It was dark and difficult to observe, but if his observation was correct the cover depicted a noble knight riding a horse with a fair maiden in his arms.

“I never gave you permission to go through my things, _Bael_ ,” Lance seethed, rasping the other man’s name with disdain.

“I can’t believe you read this drivel. Seriously? A kind to a fault knight romancing a bratty princess? How typical. I was honestly looking to see what kind of weird pornographic books you might have, but this is much more amusing.”

As Bael mocked him, Lance was already stomping towards him ready to rip the book out of his hands. Of course, as he should have expected, Bael was too dexterous and managed to avoid his grasp with each attempt. With every failure Bael laughed at him, sparking Lance into a fury. He lunged at Bael, who surprisingly did little to resist the move. Bael’s body collapsed easily enough as the pair fell to the floor with Lance atop him.

Suddenly Lance lost all will to be angry as he saw Bael’s heated look. His face was flush with splotches of red all along his face and neck. The collar of his shirt was stretched low exposing his collarbone. Without fully being aware of himself, Lance began drawing nearer as he was captured by Bael’s allure.

Then the stench hit his nostrils, and his heart sank into his stomach. They were scents he knew all too well. The smell of tobacco, cheap liquor, and a young lady’s perfume. Bael absolutely reeked of all three.

“What’s the matter, Lancelot?” Bael teased. “I know I’ve got long flowing hair, but don’t go confusing me for a delicate princess. That is unless” -Bael lifted his hand to trail a finger down the center of Lance’s chest- “you want to use me. To get over that someone you’re in love with. I don’t have to care about someone to do that with them.”

The sharp thwack resounded in the room. Lance punched Bael with more strength than he knew was possible. He leaned up on his knees and shuffled backwards away from him after realizing just what he’d done. Violence was not how he solved his problems. Still yet Lance was full of anger, and regretted none of the pain he’d just inflicted.

“How dare you! How dare you humiliate me and talk to me like I’m nothing to you?” Lance shouted, careful of his volume being too loud in the middle of the night. “I get it. We can’t be friends, but we don’t have to be enemies now too.”

Bael wiped at the blood pooling at the corner of his lip as he sat up. Lanced assumed he must have bit his tongue when he hit him, which still didn’t garner any sympathy from him.

“Alright, alright. I went too far. Even I can see that.” Bael stood up off the floor and adjusted his clothes from their disheveled state. “Nyx, stay here while I grab our stuff and get the horse ready. Don’t let him lollygag.” He then exited Lance’s room through the door heading in the direction of the armory.

Nyx flew out of the corner where she must have been hiding, and Lance could notice the apprehension in her tentative flight towards him. Just as Bael indirectly ordered, he quickly groomed himself and dressed for the day to come.

“Hey, Lance,” Nyx whispered near his ear.

“Save it. I know he’s your brother but you don’t have to make excuses for him or plead his case. Bael made his decision to act like this, and if he changes his mind later he can reap what he sowed.”

“That’s not it. I know that’s what I usually do. I just wanted to say I’m sorry. Sorry that he’s treating you this way.”

Lance made a noise of acknowledgement. “Well, I appreciate it. I hope we can still be friends, as I do enjoy your company.”

“Of course,” she said.

He finished dressing in silence and departed quietly to join Bael at the stable. Lance arrived to find him struggling with securing Oberon’s saddle and causing a great deal of ruckus that was disturbing the other animals. Wordlessly, he yanked the straps out of Bael’s hands and deftly finished the job.

The three departed under the veil of night, with each mulling in their own respective silence. The Ikana Mountains loomed on the eastern horizon as they rode, with newfound fears rearing their head in Lance’s heart. It was not dissimilar to diving headfirst into the depths of hell after just clawing his way out of it with barely a shred of life.

The sun began rising on a new day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We thought love would be gentle and kind. Never knowing that opening ourselves to it meant feeling a greater pain than we could ever know.


	18. Break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, thanks for coming to the somewhat timely update! I have good news, this week I bring extra goodies. First and foremost, I have acquired a cover art for the fic. You may see this at the top of chapter one at your leisure :)
> 
> Secondly, I wrote a little side story. It's non-canon to the events of this story...at least I think so. It's, uh, E-rated and something I just made for fun. [The smut in question.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26859463)
> 
> As always, I value the continued support and interest of my readership. Your feedback is endlessly appreciated.

The second trip to Ikana was just as bad as Lance had anticipated it being. In fact, despite the odds stacked against it to be outright terrible, it somehow managed to be worse. He mentally prepared himself to be belittled, mocked, and insulted. Bael would probably say something sarcastic or humiliating to or about him and Lance would have to grin and bear it. Even worse, Bael might prey upon his weakened heart, one so affection-starved that a brush of bare skin against his own might send him reeling.

Not even close. No, once the odor of boozy breath faded under the rising shadows of the mountain range, Bael grew quiet. Lance, in all his desperation to establish cooperation between them once more, made many failed attempts to broach casual conversation. He gained not a single response in kind aside from a grunt or two. Before the cityscape fully rose on the horizon, Lance felt maddened.

Even Nyx imitated this behavior, but it arose from a different motivation Lance observed. Whenever he cast an eye back at the pair of siblings, throwing out a comment about the scenery, Nyx remained steadfast in fussing over her brother. She never cast out a hum or a hah, realistically she probably didn't even pay attention to Lance speaking.

It was lonely existing this way. A journey that centered around him, yet he was meaningless to its cause. It further enforced the notion that he was indeed born into a life that expected greatness, but the soul placed in this body was ill fit.

Lance felt grateful as he passed under the welcoming archway that beckoned visitors into the city. His hopes, however, were quickly dashed as he observed how quiet and still the city was in the early hour. Not even the simple pleasure of observing people going about their lives was granted to him.

Without informing him, Bael slid off Oberon and took a sweeping inspection of the main thoroughfare. He removed the glaive from the saddle and hoisted it to rest on his shoulder. The blade was covered with a leather bag, either in the pursuit of safety or to deter attention. Lance didn't believe it was effective at accomplishing either possibility.

Following Bael, Lance swung a leg over the horse and began to dismount. Bael reached a hand out to press against Lance's shin, ceasing the motion; he never made eye contact as he did so.

"Stay on the horse," Bael ordered firmly.

Lance did as he was told, but unable to resist an expression of displeasure while doing so. Bael reached for the rapier he had brought along as well, but this time he handed the sheathed blade up to Lance.

"Keep this on you at all times. Don't let another brazen criminal take advantage of you," he said, resting the weapon in Lance's lap. "Stay just within my sight and don't get too close. Be as inconspicuous as possible."

Without protest Lance obliged, reseating himself in the saddle and slipping the sheath through a belt loop. Before he could be permitted to inquire their destination for the day, Bael was already walking forward with Nyx by his side. His gait was slow, Lance would give him that, to prevent their being separated.

What Lance wouldn't give to have another chance at this moment. To say the right words or take the right action. Anything to make Bael reconsider the state of things between them. Still, he remained silent. The chance had passed and time did not operate at his command. Once again, he was all alone.

* * *

Bael kited Lance from location to location without end, from daylight until dusk. Lance was not permitted to be privy to anything Bael discovered or learned in his many visits. He was kept entirely in the dark, only staying close at hand for fear of imminent danger. His eyes glazed over and his mind drifted to happier places, as staying alert was a miserable task.

Lance wondered what he might be doing with his life had he not embarked into the woods that fateful day in another life. If he'd never encountered the shadow lurking in its depths -nor met with its master- would he be happier today? That Lance would mostly likely be spending time with friends, preparing for a wedding, and practicing for the carnival's stage performance. Typical, normal things for a young man.

One fact would still be true and that was his ill-placed pining. Before he had been consumed by the dull sting of unrequited feelings, yet now his heart became a scale balancing two forces of personality that he had all but became lost in. His heart yearned still for the warm radiant smile of a dear childhood friend; a fiery sun that would sear his flesh if he grew too close.

Now, encroaching on the peak of his darkened sky, rose a brilliant snow-white moon. It was beautiful, despite the pall of night that accompanied it. Certainly it had managed to chase the star from the sky, as that was what the moon did best. Yet its heat still warmed the earth, its presence still known. Never forgotten.

It also appeared true, just as with the real versions, they would always leave him behind after a time. He was only a man; too meaningless to ascend into the sky and live amongst them. It was foolish -and cruel- of him to try and capture either one.

"If I were anyone else, you would be dead right now," said a gravelly voice.

Lance stirred from his contemplation to see a blade pointed at his stomach. In his distraction, Bael managed to lead them to the fringes of the city, away from people, and wrest Lance of his weapon. His eyes pinched shut and his head bowed, shame and guilt all too apparent. There was nothing to argue; Bael was right.

Bael returned the sword with an irritated huff. "I see I don't need to further explain myself. Sundown is approaching and we mustn't be out after nightfall. Stay on your guard always," he warned with cautious eyes.

They travelled to a nearby inn where Bael rented a room for the next few nights. It was a modest establishment, but at this point Lance was only happy to be sleeping under a roof on a bed. He didn't realize it before, but the scorching sun had been draining his vitality. Thankfully the inn provided a dinner service, and while nothing more than a simple soup and crusty bread, Lance ate it graciously.

Before he could eat, however, Bael made a point to test their food before permitting anyone to partake. It struck Lance as a ridiculous and an overly cautious measure, but if it had been poisoned then Bael was putting his own life at risk. Lance thanked him, receiving no reply in return.

Their room was small but served its purpose. It was a single bedroom with a small bathroom, with the only unique aspect of it being a book of Terminian history sitting on the nightstand. Before a discussion of sleeping arrangements could take place, Bael took a seat on the floor against the wall so that he could face the door. Lance laid his belongings on the bed before heading towards the bathroom.

"Hey, what're you doing?" Bael asked irritably.

"I'm taking a shower?" Lance responded, voice inflecting as he perked an eyebrow at Bael.

Bael didn't respond and Lance wasn't going to wait for one; he hurriedly opened the door to vacate the situation. As the door swung to lock in place, he heard a dull thump as it met an obstruction. Just as he was about to try and shove it closed, Bael pushed his way into the confined space.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Lance shouted, hands poised to push him away.

"Supervising, obviously," Bael said.

"What in the world do you think is going to happen five feet away from you behind a thin wall?"

Bael pursed his lips and squinted. "You could fall."

"This is getting ridiculous. I will not let you rob me of my privacy; the least you could let me keep is my dignity."

"Agh, fine!" Bael threw up his hands, eyes widening. "Nyx, get out. You're making him uncomfortable."

" _That is not what I mean and you know it_ ," Lance hissed, getting in Bael's face as he jabbed a finger into the other man's chest.

"I'm not budging on this so you're better off just getting comfortable with the idea." He sat down on the floor with his legs crossed, leaning against the now closed door. "If you think I'm gonna laugh at your dick or something I'm not. I'll even close my eyes when you undress."

Lance frowned in an attempt to look grumpy, but the effort fell flat as his cheeks grew warm. "Promise?"

Bael nodded. Since Lance's only options were to endure this painful experience or skip the bath, he decided that if Bael kept his word it would be tolerable. Lance turned his back on the other man and quickly undressed. He took the occasional peek over the shoulder to verify Bael's honesty. Not once did Lance suspect that Bael was going against his word.

Lance felt despicable, realizing that he hoped he might catch the other man misbehaving.

As he made quick work to cleanse his body of the day's filth, his mind was overwhelmed with invasive fantasies. Idealistic fantasies, the likes of which only happened between the pages of a book. His guilt stemmed from a multitude of sources, so much so it was troublesome to distinguish what made him feel the most deplorable.

Was it being hung up on someone so cruel? Unlikely, as most of his life was spent being in love with someone he shouldn't be. This was just the same sort of situation manifesting by different means. Could he be repulsed having thoughts of these nature about a man? To some degree, though the only things he could fathom to imagine is passionate kissing. He was only familiar with intimate acts between a man and a woman, and had no inkling what occurred between two people of the same gender. Perhaps with more understanding he could feel proper shame.

No, most likely this guilt extended purely from himself. He wanted love, more than anything in this world, but actually receiving it was not something he felt he deserved. Always giving chase but never catching his mark. That's all someone like him was destined for, wasn't it?

He was boring, not to mention impeccably plain. His family possessed wealth, certainly, but that wasn't something of his own merit. Also, as _she_ had made a point to always tell him, there was nothing desirable about him physically either.

Thoughts of her sent shivers down his spine. It was a memory long since repressed and never once expressed. He never told anyone, not Aryn nor his mother. She had shown him just how unwanted he was and he never lived her words down. How could he forget? The memories came flooding back all at once.

The time he tried -and failed- to get over Aryn.

"Is everything okay in there?" Bael asked.

Without his realizing, Lance was propping his body up with a hand on the wall of the shower. The water had begun to chill and his breathing was shallow. "Y-yeah. Why?" he asked.

"I heard you take a sharp breath. The 'I'm in pain' sounding kind."

"Oh, uh, must- must have been because the water got cold all of a sudden," Lance said with a nervous laugh. He shut off the water and blindly sought after a towel. Quickly he wrapped it around his torso, making a point to conceal his upper body. In a blur he stepped out, moving without thinking.

"Woah, be careful or you're going to trample me," Bael said, pressing his hands to Lance's shoulders.

"Get out," Lance commanded.

Bael blinked, clearly surprised at the order. His hands recoiled as if he touched a hot stove. "Easy. I'll close my eyes again just like the first-"

"Get. Out." Lance began to push him, succeeding at first but halted by Bael's bull-like strength.

"You could be a little nicer about it, you know," Bael responded.

"When I want you to stay you leave me behind; then, when I want you to go away you refuse. I can't take it anymore," Lance shouted, fists clenching into Bael's shirt. "Just let me be alone. I can't look at you right now."

Bael's eyes shifted downward and his mouth turned into a small frown. Soon after he let out a deep sigh as his shoulders sagged. "Fine. You can be alone." He pulled away from Lance's grasp and closed the door behind him. There was a noise as he must have sat on the floor on the other side.

Lance got what he wanted, but in no way did it help him feel any better. With his back pressed against the wall he slid to the floor and curled into his closely drawn knees. He stayed that way for a long time, the passage of time unbeknownst to him. No one disturbed him in all that time, both a blessing and a curse.

After exiting the bathroom, the rest of the night played out in silence. Bael had stayed outside the bathroom door, only moving once Lance surfaced. Lance's heart still raced as his body was still seized with panic, causing him to feel light headed while walking towards the bed. He burrowed under the blankets and did all he could to hide from the world around himself. His plagued mind made finding sleep troublesome, but eventually it came just as it always did.

His body was tired but so too was his soul. Tired of the cycle of love and loss. Tired of the cycle of death. Perhaps one day the curse would end, releasing him from its hold. One day he would fall into the void of the unknown, and the claws of life would fail to reclaim him.

The idea was starting to grow on him.

* * *

When the next day arrived it began playing out much the same way as the one prior did. Lance found himself unable to stomach food and allowed himself to be guided around. This day melted into an indistinguishable experience from yesterday, worsened by the exhaustion on his body. He had pitied Oberon too much to force the animal into carrying him around for another entire day, so he curbed Bael's insistence to do otherwise and allowed the horse to rest today. Apparently after Lance shouted at Bael last night he eased up on his aggression. That or Lance had become numb to it.

Then it happened in the midafternoon. Something occurred to break the monotony of walking up and down the city streets on aching feet. The earth began to tremble. Tremendously.

As Lance fell to his knees, failing to maintain balance, he recalled something similar from the day prior. It astounded him how lost in thought he'd been to forget the ground beneath his feet shifting. This was different, however, and greatly so. The terrain began to shift, cracking into jutting shards of rock. The sound of it was muted by screams of terror and Lance's body began operating out of his control.

Bael grabbed his arm to drag him along, eyes alight with abundant adrenaline. Lance assumed they would be running in the opposite direction the tremors originated but that was not the case. They were sprinting headlong to the epicenter, where the horizon curved upward. A sight never before seen.

There was no other way to describe it. The earth was giving birth to something monstrous.

Faces passed them by until soon it was just the three of them sprinting to the center of the city. Lance dared not ask why or what was the plan, as trusting Bael was the only option left to him. If he perished, well, so be it. His untimely end could create infinite retries; a 'gift' others could only dream of possessing. That's all he meant now. An opportunity to get it right.

Before reaching the full rise of the cresting rock, Bael released Lance's hand and turned to him. "Stay here. If it looks unsafe at any point, just run away. Don't look back and don't worry about me." Bael uncovered the glaive and swung the polearm to wield in one hand. He bounded up the sheer incline, quickly leaving Lance's sight.

Lance stood still, unable to move his legs. A gnawing in his gut screamed at him to leave. This was where death lived, and should they continue to exist in its presence they would all surely die. That's what his instincts told him. Yet he could not move as his eyes tracked the small darting speck, fearing the worst for Bael's safety. Lance couldn't stand to imagine he might watch Bael be killed.

An eruption spewed rock as two enormous, sharp pincers shot out of the peak. A head began to emerge, revealing the giant crimson carapace of a centipede. Three emerald eyes and nigh endless rows of sharp teeth lie behind its mandibles. Finally, the elder sibling of the old twin gods appeared. As Aka screeched while breaching the surface, he marvelled at the magnitude of the creature. Its size was beyond comprehension; the head alone was larger than downtown Ikana.

Then there was Bael, even more minuscule in comparison. Evidently that didn't affect his resolve as Lance watched the other man reach the top of the distant hill before launching himself onto Aka's neck. After several moments of anxious observation, Lance concluded that Bael's presence was completely overlooked by the god.

Aka continued ascending into the air, which meant this terrible beast was capable of flight as well. Lance thought Odolwa was a frightening deity in his own right, but this was infinitely beyond the scope of the warrior. To think there were _two_ of these creatures was too much to bear.

Eventually Lance lost sight of Bael and slowly he began to step backwards. Still his eyes never left from watching the creature continue to rise with no end to its body in sight.

Suddenly, Aka's head snapped downwards and its three green eyes looked in Lance's direction. The creature was so enormous he couldn't be certain it was looking at him, but that persistent sense of foreboding told him it could be looking at no one else. Aka's pincers chattered, a noise that sent shockwaves coursing through his body. The earth began to shake once more.

In a line, shooting from the point Aka brust from the ground, the ground began to crack. As Lance watched he could observe that it was speeding right towards him and he was helpless to stop it. He clumsily spun around, fleeing in the opposite direction. The sound of splitting rock increased exponentially and Lance knew it was futile to attempt escape.

The ground beneath his feet burst apart and was replaced by a gargantuan segment of Aka's body. He fell flat onto the carapace as Aka pulled its body upwards, crushing him flat against the hard surface. His ribs cracked from the impact and the force propelling him upward pushed the fragments into his internal organs. Lance's vision darkened as blood rushed from his head, mental awareness fading by the second.

Finally, the beast's entire body emerged as its tail curled overhead reaching the height of its movement. Lance was flung upwards from its body high into the bright blue sky with all the world below him. There was no sound at this height, save for his own heartbeat throbbing in his ears.

Until there was a voice calling out. What were they saying exactly? The volume increased until finally he could make out what they were saying.

"Lance!"

It was his own name. Funny, his name typically meant nothing to him, yet here as he soared with a battered body it gave him comfort. To be seen or simply just to be known. It felt nice.

"This wasn't supposed to happen like this, you have to believe me! I'll fix it. I'll fix it. I promise you I will," the voice shouted, sounding pitifully hoarse.

Lance's one eye still retaining vision sought the source of the voice who knew his name. It was coming from Aka. How strange. Perhaps it wasn't out of the question the creature could speak but why would it address him? It did this to him; it was too late to apologize now.

Aka drew in closer to him, its massive maw opening wide upon its approach. With one final glimpse before disappearing into the void, Lance caught a glimpse of brilliant white hair atop the beast's head.

Ah, so it was Bael. Lance smiled. Bael worried about him after all.

The world became dark. A wet sensation followed by the sound of cracking from within himself were the last things he recalled.

* * *

What was once reality became a haunting nightmare. Just as before, he was saved from what plagued him by the sound of his mother's voice and the sight of that lone child deep in a forest. He got a better look at the child this time but nothing about them rang familiar. They were very young, possibly the age one might begin primary school. Their hair was ebony black with eyes a familiar icy blue.

"Why's he crying?" the child asked, peering at someone out of Lance's narrow tunnel of vision. "He should be happy now."

"That's just what babies do. It's the only way they know how to talk to us," replied a sweet feminine voice, instantly recognizable as Lance's mother.

The child twisted their lips in contemplation, reaching a tentative finger to poke at what Lance perceived as his cheek. Crying began to overtake the comforting hum. Then he was awake once more.

Bael was not there. Nyx, who was resting atop his chest, quickly explained he'd already left for the fairy grove and would return.

Lance felt hollow. Numb would also encapsulate the feeling well. His mind was closing off to protect itself from further harm and he was satisfied to feel empty. Caring meant pain and he didn't want that anymore.

* * *

Days began to blur into one and so too did the lives that he endured. Bael was, as far as Lance could tell, running himself ragged. He mulled in silence with not a word shared between them for hours -or maybe days. After being devoured by Aka, Lance was pulled into a never-ending futile attempt to outsmart the god.

When they returned to Ikana that first time Bael immediately sought out an abandoned cavern in the back section of the city. Untouched and unseen by its people this was where Lance was commanded to stay and hide. Bael came and went periodically, but otherwise Lance stayed completely alone. Isolated and cold.

The first time was when Aka, at least to his understanding, crashed its great body into the mountain that housed the cavern. The walls and ceilings crumbled, crushing him within. After that attempt Bael had them migrate between a multitude of hiding spots he had scouted. This allowed Lance to survive longer— or it could have been even less time. Time meant nothing anymore.

During some of their attempts Aka still found where Lance was hiding and either crushed or devoured him. The times he didn't perish at the hand of the great insect were all the more horrifying. The god of death sent his thrall, hungry and enraged, to seek out his prey. When Lance first succumbed to a swarm of gnashing, rotting corpses he cried out for any deity that would hear his pleas. It wasn't quick the way Aka killed him, no, this was slow and horrendous.

Bael's cries and faltering attempts at diverting the swarm hurt almost as much. He screamed empty promises of amending the situation; that he was so close to understanding how to quell the beast.

Lance was tired. Exhausted from hurt. Just let him die was all he asked. Let him die and stay dead.

* * *

How many cycles had it been? Lance lost count after the third. Was it ten? Twelve? His companions probably knew, but it was not knowledge they would divulge he was certain. Nor did he want to ask. The further his mind drifted away from awareness the better. Every waking moment was spent in dread. His faith in Bael faltered with each nightmare he awoke from.

He'd been in this riverside cave for three days now he was fairly certain. Bael came back tonight with the scent of death and eyes that had seen enough. They slept at opposite ends with Bael towards the mouth and Lance nestled in the back. Nyx was- well, Lance couldn't say with certainty. Was she even here anymore?

Was any of this real anymore? He had heard tales of a realm of the dead where the evil go to be tormented for eternity. If this wasn't that place, he couldn't fathom a more terrible place. Nor any living being that could deserve it.

Sleep often came easy these days. These lives. Most of his day was spent sleeping, as it was a happier place than consciousness. When he was lucky he dreamed of happier days. Days in the company of dear friends without a care in their young lives aside from grades and making parents happy. If Lance could see his father now he would wrap his arms around him and never let go. Tell him he loved him; something he hadn't done since childhood.

A firm pressure was on his stomach. Lance took a deep breath as he opened his eyes to greet his demise. However, it wasn't what he expected to see.

"B-Bael? Is that y-" he whispered, but a vice grip enclosed around his neck. He was strangely relaxed for a person being attacked, but this wasn't something he hadn't already endured in some form or fashion. Lance found the quicker you let it happen the sooner it ended. Fighting made them bite harder, squeeze tighter, and tear deeper.

Bael was crying. At least, in the darkness of the cave, it looked like tears in his eyes. One eye looked unfamiliar. Instead of a blue as deep as the sea, Lance saw an eye the color of blood.

"No, please. _Please_. Don't make me do this to _him_ ," Bael shouted, his right hand squeezing tighter with each passing second. His other hand scratched and yanked at his right hand, deep scratch marks apparent all over his flesh.

Lance's vision dimmed and he put up no effort to resist. In all the ways he's died so far no one had shown reluctance to hurt him. It oddly made him happy. He wasn't happy to die, nor was he happy for Bael to be killing him. Just happy that someone in some capacity wanted him alive.

The void claimed him once again. A brief respite. The last thing he heard was Bael crying out for him.

"I'm sorry, Lance," Bael whispered, voice cracking between gasps.

He hadn't heard his name spoken in so long. So that was how it sounded. His name wasn't anything special, nor did he think of it as much. Here though, and now, he was happy to hear it.

_I only hope to hear you say it again with a smile on your face._

* * *

Lance dreamed about the forest again. He saw the blue-eyed child once again, peering curiously down at him. The child appeared to be holding him close as he was pressed close to their chest. His mother appeared to be nearby as he spied a figure in a familiar nightgown, now covered in filth, kneeling near him on the ground.

"He stopped crying," the child spoke incredulously.

"That means he likes you," she explained with a laugh. She reached her hand above him, and the body he was viewing from reached a small hand to wrap around her index finger.

The child frowned and furrowed their brow. Lance's 'body' began to move as he was being rocked from side to side. "Thanks for letting me hold him. I've never gotten to hold a baby before."

Leaves crinkled as his mother shifted in place. "Why don't you leave with us? Come live with me and my husband. It's the least I can do to repay you after helping my son. I'll take care of you with what life I have left."

The arms around him clenched, causing his infant body to squirm with discomfort.

"I can't. Here," the child murmured before handing Lance back to his mother.

"Why not? You're just a little boy out here all alone. It's not right." she said, holding her baby close.

"I made a promise. Just like the promise you made."

Lance woke up before he could hear the rest of the conversation. Quickly the remnants of his dream became all but forgotten. Something else immediately apparent gained his attention instead.

It was the middle of the night, and for the first time in a hundred lives he woke up all alone.


	19. What's Left of You and Me

The Woods of Mystery were cloaked in darkness, yet Lance departed for their depths without a second thought. Truthfully, the first thought never occurred either. When he awoke to a lonely camp with an empty bed across from his own his legs carried him into the forest. Even now he wasn’t considering his safety or even the purpose of his journey, only that a compulsion propelled him forward without a glace behind.

It was cold, a fact exacerbated by his lack of forethought to put on his coat or even his shoes. Dried leaves and prickly brambles punctured the soles of his feet, but his determination overpowered the pain. He began to wonder if perhaps this was all a dream, as that was how out of control of his actions he felt to be.

Some of the sights he passed resembled images he might have seen -or fabricated- in the past. He’d walked this forest three times; each one resulted in a different encounter with Bael. The first was the night he’d died for the very first time, when Bael found him under assault of the Lost One. Lance remembered admiring Bael’s ethereal beauty and his, admittedly, subconscious desire to see the mysterious being again. The second time he was greeted by the end of Bael’s spear, a comical memory afterwards. Bael had been so insufferably callous and rude that Lance’s admiration grew into disdain. Lance had wanted nothing more than to leave and never suffer the so-called ‘Lord of the Woods’ and his childish mockery again.

The last time was one of Lance’s most vivid memories. Bael revealed to him a deep and painful secret; one that he had dared not share with anyone else in the world. This had meant the universe to Lance, and to think of it now made his breath hitch. He wanted that Bael in his life again so badly. The time they spent at odds with each other now vastly surpassed the few days they spent as dear friends. Yet Bael’s mirthful eyes and boyish grin was forever etched into Lance’s mind.

As he traipsed through the undergrowth, once again lost in thought, a violet shimmer in the corner of his eyes drew him back to reality. This being the first new sight in the hours since he started walking, Lance eagerly pursued the glimpse in the hopes he would find whatever his body was guiding him towards.

In the heart of the forest, under a beam of moonlight in a ring around a fallen log, bright violet fungi grew. On the edges of his memory Lance recalled them being named King’s Bane toadstools. They were his long sought after cure; the very thing he was trying to find that first fateful night here.

Cautiously, with a large leaf to prevent touching it directly, Lance plucked one and held it aloft. After all this grief and suffering, his reason for travelling with Bael was in his hand. It meant he could go home and forget everything. Bael may hunt him down, but with this he would never need to give in to the other man’s demands. He could start healing.

Yet, his feet would not turn around to lead him out of the woods. After quickly placing the toadstool in his breast pocket, Lance’s body kept moving forward deeper in.

Wait, what had he been thinking? Abandon Bael and forget everything they had gone through together? Lance couldn’t believe he had just entertained such an abhorrent thought. Bael had been _destroying_ himself for Lance’s sake. This wasn’t to say Lance wasn’t mad at what Bael had been doing; he was furious in fact. But it was a fury that was quelled with a heartfelt apology, not forsaking the other person. Lance knew Bael must be hurting somewhere far away right now. Every death in front of Bael shook the other man to the core, that much Lance knew without doubt.

Lance felt hollow knowing he had died and would die again, but Bael possessed a vivid memory of the acts. To him they were not dreams, but images fresh in his mind’s eye.

With thoughts turned to Bael, an oft-occurring habit, Lance failed to notice the growling until its deep bass coursed through his chest. Just a few steps ahead of him lurched a hulking beast. It was no taller than himself but about five times as wide. He struggled to discern what manner of forest being it was, and instead of fleeing he stood stock-still.

It struggled to maneuver, appearing to be uncomfortable controlling its limbs. He surmised its grunts and grumbles were noises of frustration as opposed to threatening. Its body appeared to be black and white, with the lighter color standing out in stark contrast to the environment. As its head swung from side to side Lance noticed its eyes were blood red.

He gasped, and the beast lumbered around to face him while rearing onto its hind legs. Its posture resembled that of a bear, but Lance finally perceived the truth of its appearance. It was a stalbeast; the shambling skeletal remnants of an animal who was transmogrified by the forest’s influence.

Lance fell backwards and pitifully attempted to crawl away from the hulking monstrosity. The stalbeast clumsily stepped forward on its hind legs, lifting its forepaws high. He cowered in anticipation of the beast’s strike.

“Gooooo awaaaayyyyy!” rasped a deep, echoing voice. Out of the darkness propelled a darkened, shimmering mass.

Why was this sight familiar? Regardless, the glimmering shadow diverted the stalbeast’s attention, allowing Lance to shimmy behind a tree. From there he watched the shadow shift its shape to assume what only Lance could guess was something humanoid holding a long stick. Its free hand, if one could call it that, raised to curl its fingers inward in a come-hither at the stalbeast.

The stalbeast struck first, leaning the full weight of its body into its opening strike. Unfortunately the shadow was not nimble and took the full brunt of it, a portion of its form breaking off and erupting into brilliant light. This light caused the stalbeast to howl and cover its eyes with its paws, granting the shadow a window of opportunity. The shadow swung hard and fast, colliding directly with the center of the stalbeast’s spine. Its bones promptly scattered in all directions, with the head falling to the ground. The eyes still glowed with garish light.

The shadow plunged the stick it held into the skull and the light became dark. Immediately the mass of shadow shuddered and its entire form shattered into individual orbs of light. After spending enough time with one, Lance knew immediately this was a group of fairies.

As the pack of fairies heaved and danced in delight, Lance crawled out from his hiding place into full view. His eyes searched desperately for a lilac fairy but his hopes were quickly dashed.

“Hey!” a bright voice shouted.

Each of the fairies' attention turned to the bright green one who must be the source of the disruption.

“Look! It’s a human!” the green fairy shouted.

All of the fairies turned to face Lance and their tiny bodies jolted. For several awkward seconds each side stared at each other; Lance in apprehension and the fairies in what he hoped was just surprise and nothing sinister. Suddenly, the entire group’s wings fluttered and they dove towards Lance with cheers of joy.

“Not just any human, it’s Bael’s human!” several fairies shouted as they flew to Lance’s face. The whole group began to nudge his body all over, Lance interpreting as them urging him to stand.

Lance felt heat tinge his cheeks but quickly suppressed the sudden rush of emotions. “You’re all Bael’s family, right?” he asked, now standing and adorned in a multitude of vibrant colors. “Where is he?”

“He ran into the grove in a hurry a few hours ago,” a pink fairy answered. “He looked upset and wouldn’t talk to any of us. Then he rushed into his- um, the bad house. Nyx is there with him- well, as much as she can be.”

“Take me to him,” Lance said, marching forward without waiting for an agreement.

“Ugh, that’s how you’ll get lost, stupid,” a blue fairy said, flying directly into Lance’s face. “Why do you think we’re out here instead of there? Nyx wasn’t kidding when she said Bael’s human is dumb.”

Lance furrowed his brow and opened his mouth to speak but thought better of it. Arguing wouldn’t help anything, and the cooperation of these fairies was of the utmost importance right now.

“Follow me,” the green fairy said. “We’ll take you to him. You’re the only one that can go into the bad house.”

* * *

The fairies did as they promised, and without delay they arrived at the fairy grove with Lance in tow. He remembered it previously being a place of ethereal beauty filled with playful laughter and calm ambiance; now, it was far from it. A dour pallor painted the atmosphere with even the flora taking on a sickly appearance. Fairies and imps that populated the hidden hamlet were either lethargic with sorrow or erratic with distress.

Lance’s arrival shifted the atmosphere, so much so that he believed to hear the trees creak from pushing against the oppressive air. Every inhabitant turned to face him, with the weight of their stares threatening to crush him. They swarmed his body, fairies pressing into any and all free spaces while the imps fell at his feet clutching his legs.

“Help him,” they whispered, cried, and gasped.

The knot in his stomach began doubling in size with each passing, aching second. He donned a brave face before nodding in affirmation. “I’ll do everything within my power.” Then his attention shifted to the three fairies he spoke to prior. “I don’t want to delay any longer.”

“Before we go there, we want to give you something. Something we hope can help,” the pink fairy piped up. “Come with us to Bael’s house.”

As he followed, several distant haunting sounds sent a shudder through everyone present, Lance included. It fluctuated between angered howls and aching sobs. The fairies would not permit him to linger and allow his empathy to consume him, so he pressed onwards with shoulders squared. Still yet, his knees trembled with each step.

They arrived at Bael’s simple home, a long gone and faded memory but one he could vaguely recall. The simple, bare-bones furnishing was vastly outnumbered by the odd arrangement of knick knacks and baubles. A vast majority were carved wooden animals, but just as equally impressive was a collection of both professionally and self-made instruments. Lance remembered buying Bael a flute the first time they went to Ikana City. At the time it seemed such an inconsequential, trivial thing. Now, he began to consider the sentimentality of the request Bael asked of him.

“Here,” the pink fairy spoke, drawing his wandering eyes back to attention. She and two other fairies were carrying an object that was vastly larger than their sizes combined.

Lance quickly took it from their hold, a chorus of sighs following as he did so. He took a moment to examine it, noticing that it was relatively light for its size and was soft to the touch. It appeared to be a stuffed animal, a rabbit specifically, with a missing button eye and several torn stitches. While in its prime it was evidently a vibrant white bunny, it was now darkened and dirtied from exposure to the elements. He looked up at the fairies, puzzled by this gift.

“When Bael was little this was the only thing we could give him to calm him down when he got upset. He called her Lily, so we assume that must be her name. I know he’s an adult now, but sometimes the comforts of childhood still work when we’re supposed to have outgrown them.”

He quickly reflected on the soothing touch of his mother’s hand upon his hair and the corner of his lips turned up ever so slightly. “Thanks. I think this will help a lot, actually,” he answered, clutching the toy to his chest. “I’m Lance, by the way. I guess they never mentioned my name before.”

“Bael did when we asked,” the green one said.

“Before that it was all ‘doe-eyed human’ this and ‘rich boy’ that. Every time he came back to check on the grove. It was funny at first but pretty annoying quickly after,” the blue one explained.

“I was the one that asked,” the pink one said with a small shake and proud lilt to her voice. “I’m Leaf by the way. That one is Ciela” -she waved a wing at the green one- “and the other is Neri.”

“Nice to meet you three,” Lance responded, fidgeting with his hair. “So, he- uh, he talked about me a lot?”

“Mostly just when he was watching you early on. Before you two became attached at the hip,” Neri said before Ciela roughly bumped into her. “Hey!”

“You can whine about being jealous later,” Ciela scolded. “And you” -she turned to Lance and flew up to his face- “can continue the formalities later. If you haven’t noticed the whole area is getting sick from his strong negative emotions.”

Lance fervently nodded and bid the fairies to lead the way, tightly clutching Lily as if his livelihood depended on this stuffed toy.

* * *

As they progressed deeper into the grove the sickness that consumed its inhabitants became all the more apparent. Fairies laid upon the ground in disarray, and had it not been for their dim glow Lance might have thought them all dead. The greenery had shriveled into decay and the trees slacked to brush their branches along the ground. It was nothing like Lance had ever seen. Plants could be wiped out by a blight from time to time, but these were not symptoms of a mere illness. Every form of life that lived here was grieving, and with each pitiful noise that echoed their spirits died a little more.

“How is Bael capable of having such a tremendous effect on the forest like this?” Lance asked, marveling at his surroundings. Either he was immune to its effects or his numbness to reality persisted, what was true he could not decide.

“It’s not really him exactly,” Ciela began, followed by a deep yawn. “Fairies have a deep connection to our environment and our emotions can affect it. It’s not often we feel negative emotions as strongly as your kind.”

“Bael’s different in that way,” Leaf added. “He’s tried all his life to deny his humanity, but when staring it down he buckles under its pressure.”

“Quiet! We’re not supposed to say anything about that,” Neri barked weakly, a yawn overtaking her.

Bael’s shouting became somewhat intelligible as the ‘bad house’ rose to view between the downtrodden trees. He wept uncontrollably, his voice sounding pitifully hoarse as he was wracked by sobs. Lance focused on what he was saying to try and discern what he could be saying.

Home. Lance definitely heard him talking about a home. A place he missed dearly and wanted to see again it seemed. Someone he wanted to see there more than anything in the world. The last thing he heard, however, made him stop still in his tracks with a hand knotted in his shirt.

“Mama,” Bael uttered, desperate and pleading. “Why did you do this to me?”

* * *

Lance shambled forward as his mind blocked out any further conversation from the fairies. He had no clue why Bael was saying what he was, only that he felt a deep empathy at this type of pain Bael was experiencing. A mother was typically the first person in someone’s life to love them, or deny it were they cruel enough to do so, and could shape the foundation of life going forward. Yet Lance also grew worried for this now shaken Bael who so far had remained stalwart and eternally confident. Just how far had Lance’s friend regressed?

“Lance,” a voice called from close by.

He jolted as the familiarity reached behind the mental barrier he built around himself. Looking up he saw Nyx, who was now surrounded by Lance’s three fairy escorts. Without a face to see he could never read her emotions, but with the kind sound of her voice and the patience she was showing, Lance liked to believe she was happy to see him.

“You came to see him,” Nyx said fondly.

“I did,” Lance replied, brow furrowed as Bael’s anguish returned to his awareness.

“He told me to stay close by in case you showed up. I’m supposed to send you away, according to his wishes.”

“Will you?” he asked cautiously.

“No,” she answered.

Lance peered at the rundown shack that housed the stalfos Bael had once shown him; where Bael now let an onslaught of terror siege his entirety. “Why did he come h-”

“Not this time,” she interrupted.

His look of confusion earned a soft sigh from her, but not one of contempt. The sound was sad, concerned, and simply tired.

“I’m always filling in the blanks that Bael leaves unanswered and that’s not right of me to do. You need to hear what you want to know from him. Don’t let him push you away again.” She drew closer to his face, flying right alongside his cheek to press her illuminated warmth against his ear. “Save him before we lose him forever. Share his burdens, Lance. Show him he doesn’t have to be alone.”

He walked alone to the house, as the fairies would not dare come an inch closer to the nauseating darkness that lurked within. This was nothing. Lance had seen and felt too much suffering in his young life. Sadness could never frighten him, not when standing against it together could lift someone from its depths.

The door creaked open and a cold chill traveled down the length of his spine.

Bael was slumped on the floor, partially obscured by the darkness of the windowless structure. His head was pressed close to the rib cage of one of the stalfos, his arms enclosed around its upper body. The one cradling him peered down with its sunken blood-red eyes, one of its hands resting on top of his head. Its teeth chattered while emitting a low hiss, which at first alarmed Lance until he noticed its hand stroking Bael’s head. The other stalfos reached out its hands towards them, but the chains that bound it prevented it from drawing near. It made the same unsettling noises, albeit the hisses were more akin to airy whimpers.

“Mama, why? I told you and Dad we shouldn’t leave her all alone. She wanted us there with her. That’s all she ever wanted, Mama. I want to go home. Take me home, please. I can’t stand it here anymore,” Bael sobbed.

Lance approached with great trepidation, barely permitting himself to breathe. It was much to his dismay that he happened to step on a loose floor plank that immediately alerted the perceptive Bael. His head spun around with teeth bared like a feral dog and sclera tinged red. Bael’s eyes widened as they landed upon Lance who stopped the moment they locked eyes.

The temperature felt as if it plummeted, but Lance puffed his chest and maintained eye contact. He wasn’t backing down, no, he couldn’t back down. If Bael wanted him gone, he’d just have to kill Lance himself. Then he would return again, and again, and again. From now until eternity.

Bael started clamoring to his feet but stumbled back to the ground. His fist slammed into the floor as he cursed. Then he looked up at Lance once more before crawling towards him. “Go home, Lance. You don’t belong here.”

“No. I’m done letting you have your way,” Lance stated, voice faltering as Bael gripped his pant legs to pull himself upward. “You’re stuck here with me until I’m satisfied.”

After rising to his knees Bael’s grip shifted to secure a firmer hold. He began to push against Lance’s hips, biting his lower lip when he was met with resistance. Lance had initially prepared himself to be immediately dropped, but blinked in surprise when remained standing. After realizing that Bael wasn’t going to stop until he succeeded, Lance conceded to his pitiful display and allowed himself to be pushed to the floor.

“Satisfied? You want satisfaction, is that it?” Bael rasped, hands gripping the collar of Lance’s shirt, pulling it taut. Bael’s upper body now draped across Lance’s torso. “How about this, human? I’m done helping you; you’re on your own. I’ll slay every god in this land with my own two hands without you holding me back any longer,” he threatened, the venom in his voice dampened by persistent hiccups.

“Help me?” Lance rose to a sitting position, hands on Bael’s upper arms causing him to wince. “Fat load of help you’ve been lately. Thanks to your help I can never forget what it feels like to have my muscles ripped from my bones. To have all my organs rupture simultaneously as I’m eaten alive. One of my biggest fears in life has been to die alone, and now I’ve done it more times than I can count. You can shove your ‘help’ up your ass.”

Bael grimaced, either due to his words or Lance’s tight hold on him. He tried -and failed- to wriggle free from Lance. “All of that would have happened whether or not I got involved.”

“It would be better if you hadn’t been there, truth be told,” Lance said, body tensing as the heat of the moment began to consume him. “Then maybe I could enjoy my time alive instead of wishing I was just dead. To not have someone I care about turn their back on me when I need them most.”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Bael said, eyes dropping as his fiery spirit began to depart.

“I don’t think it’s complicated at all. I think you’re scared of change; scared of it so damn much you’d stab yourself in the heart to prevent it from happening.” Lance’s grip lightened but his hold on Bael remained. Never before had Bael looked so small and vulnerable as he did now. Mere moments from shattering into pieces if not handled with care.

“Why are you even here in the first place?” Bael shot back. “If you hate me so much why even bother? My hands are stained with your blood now and there’s no way to undo that memory. You should have taken the chance to go home and forget about everything.”

“Because,” Lance began, “I deserve retribution for what you’ve done to me. You’re the only one I can get that from.”

Bael exhaled heavily before turning his head away. “You want to kill me, is that it? Or maybe torture is more your thing.”

“No. That’s not enough for me or for your crimes. I need something, or rather, several things from you that are much more potent,” Lance said, dipping his head to try and see Bael’s face.

“Like what?” Bael asked, indignant as ever.

“First, I’d like an apology.”

“I- wait, what? An apology, really?” Bael asked incredulously. “That’s not going to fix a fucking thing.”

“I get to decide what fixes what, not you,” Lance answered sharply.

Bael held fast while staring at the floor. His cold, sweat-slickened body trembled against Lance. His breathing accelerated as he reflexively tightened and slacked his hold on Lance’s shirt. “I already did. Be- before you died. Before I killed you. And everything is still the same.”

Lance lifted his free hand to grasp Bael’s chin between his fingers, turning the other man’s face to face him directly. When their eyes met Bael’s tears began to flow once more, wracked by sobs deep within his chest.

“Say it again. I couldn’t accept it then and now that time is gone. This is a new life for us to take another chance,” Lance whispered, eyes half-lidded as he lost himself in Bael’s despondent expression.

The pair of stalfos whined, observing their display with what could only be interpreted as confusion. This wasn’t Lance’s ideal moment for a deeply intimate exchange between the two of them, but he’d captured lightning in a bottle in this instance. Come hell or high water, he wasn’t letting go.

“Sorry,” Bael mumbled, eyes averted sharply to the side.

“Speak up. I can’t hear you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” Lance asked, his thumb grazing across Bael’s skin at the corner of his lips.

“I’m sorry you went through so much pain in Ikana.”

“No. Even though it was horrifying I don’t blame you for what happened to me. Apologize for things _you_ have done, Bael.”

Bael huffed as he dropped his grip on Lance’s shirt. He then began striking his fists into Lance’s chest, though just as before the impact was weak and caused no pain.

Lance frowned. “Please look at me.”

“I can’t,” Bael replied between blows.

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t!” Bael’s teeth bared once more and resumed locking eyes with Lance. “No matter what you want or what I want things can’t be different. Don’t think I don’t know what you want, Lance. They’re the same things I want,” he whined, pausing to catch his breath. “I am bound to this place until the day I finally die. You’re a human beloved by many and have a chance at real happiness some day. I won’t let myself get in the way of that.”

Lance’s brows furrowed, heat rising in his chest. “You’re such an idiot. I can’t believe you put me through all of this misery because of a stupid idea you have in your head. Are you always this presumptuous? Deciding what’s best for other people without their consent?”

Bael tensed, mouth opening several times before clamping shut completely. Lance continued to stare him down, expectant and unrelenting in reaching a resolution for them both. Eventually Bael’s posture shifted and he jerked his head out of Lance’s tender hold. He reached for the glove on his hand and tore it away, tossing it carelessly to the side.

“You see this?” Bael shouted, his now uncovered hand shoved into Lance’s face mere inches away. “This is what I am and will never cease to be. I’m a monster with a hand that can only kill.”

The entirety of his right hand was skeletal and the exposed bone extended just past his wrist. Lance took a deep breath at the surprise but didn’t recoil from Bael. This was the moment that mattered most of all, he believed. He needed to treat it with the utmost care.

Lance drew both of his hands towards his chest and began to undo the first several buttons. Bael heaved, eyes darting down at the motion but not dropping his hand. His face was perplexed but he dared not speak to voice his confusion. Once the buttons were undone Lance pulled the left side of the shirt back to further expose the skin. It was unfair to think so, but Lance felt equally as vulnerable as Bael by doing so.

His other hand grasped Bael by the wrist of his right arm and immediately Bael fought hard to pull away from him. Lance’s grip was firm yet kind, presenting no threat of harm to the one he held captive. Lance drew Bael’s hand downward despite his protests, and slowly forced the cold bones to press against his breast. Right where his heart was located.

“If that’s true then I must have died by now,” Lance said with a warm smile. “Just because you’re different from me doesn’t make you a monster. Any hand can kill someone, just the same as any hand can touch someone’s heart.”

Bael’s lip quivered and it took every ounce of willpower within Lance to not relent. He just wanted to wrap the other man up in his arms so badly until they both forgot what it meant to hurt. Therefore, he remained outwardly composed and steadfast.

“What’s that moving?” Bael asked suddenly, his fingers carefully curling against Lance’s warmth. “There’s something bumping under your skin.”

At first Lance didn’t know how to answer. Hopeful that Bael wouldn’t move, he released Bael’s wrist and placed his hand over the one on his heart. There Lance felt the vibrant, youthful rhythm of his heartbeat.

“That’s my heart beating to keep me alive. Every living thing has one,” Lance explained kindly.

Abruptly Bael grasped the hand Lance held to his chest and pulled it against his own. He held it splayed flat over his chest just as Lance had done, Bael’s left hand pressed firmly on top of it.

“Do I have one too?” Bael asked desperately, eyes full of fearful anticipation.

Lance didn’t even need to wait. Underneath his hand drummed a fast, powerful beat of Bael’s heart. He imagined this must be what the heart of a child would be like. “It’s there without a doubt. Beating even faster than mine.”

They were interlocked by the weight of this moment they shared. Each man with a hand on the other’s heart, neither able to move for fear of shattering the odd serenity.

“Hey, Lance?” Bael whispered.

Lance hummed in acknowledgement.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I said and did all those awful things to you. I didn’t mean any of it,” Bael said, tears threatening to break free at any second.

He pulled Bael into his chest to hold him close. Bael eagerly returned the embrace as the two wound their arms around each other. Lance rested his chin on top of the other man’s head, while Bael burrowed his face into Lance’s chest.

“I’m so happy to hear you say that,” Lance said, finally permitting himself to shed a tear as his protective barriers began to break down. “No matter what I’ve been through, the hell I’ve seen and felt, this is the only thing I wanted. I just wanted to know you still cared.”

“I’m glad you didn’t throw me away. After everything I’ve done, and what I am, I just can’t believe someone would think of me so highly,” Bael said, partially muffled as his mouth remained pressed against Lance.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” Lance teased, earning a small chuckle from Bael that tightened an ever present knot in his stomach. “Not even death can pull me away from being a thorn in your side.”

They laughed. Together. It was everything Lance could ever hope and want to have. The scene wasn’t picturesque like a storybook, and that was okay by him. Theirs was an unconventional story; everything they would do and hope to be was in opposition to what the world said they should be. Once upon a time Lance desired a fairy-tale life and he was getting the complete opposite. If he had the chance to do it all over again he would choose this path again and again. The hurts were deep, but the emotional satisfaction was unlike he had ever known prior.

“Now, I hate to ruin this moment, but what else did you want from me?” Bael asked, head pulling back but staying embraced.

“Ah, I guess I should get around to that. Don’t want to keep those waiting on us worried for too long.” Lance reached down nearby where Lily had fallen by the wayside. He could have brought her out sooner, but frankly Lance wanted to earn this resolution on his own. If he’d used a sentimental trick it would never feel authentic. Nor did he want to feel jealousy of a stuffed toy.

“They gave this to me to give to you,” he said, holding Lily between them.

Bael’s eyes lit up before shutting tight as his mouth curled into a pained smile. He hurriedly took the toy from Lance and cuddled it tight before falling forward against Lance again. His body began to shake once more.

“The other thing I want, Bael,” Lance began, one hand stroking Bael’s back while the other over his hair, “is the bigger request admittedly.” He then took a deep breath.

“I want you to tell me the truth. About everything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was fun for me, and something I've been waiting on for a long time. As always, please feel let me know what you thought in the comments below :)


	20. Son of Hylia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the later than normal upload! Editing always trips me up, but hey we've hit 20 chapters now. How awesome is that?
> 
> Hope I made it worth the wait!

Bael took a deep, ragged breath.

A skeletal finger passed over the filthy, matted fur of the stuffed rabbit. Despite the absence of flesh he still possessed the sense of touch. What was once an object of great comfort now presented nothing to assuage his fears. How could a cold remnant of lost time hope to heal him, when he knew the warmth of compassion? His fingers flinched as yearning consumed him; the hunger to touch a human once more. A human he might dare to consider his.

“You’re right, Lance, that is an awfully big ask,” he returned with a weak laugh.

Lance did it again, that thoughtless action that covered Bael’s body with goosebumps. He didn’t interlock his fingers with Bael’s messy locks, nor did Lance grip him tightly to usurp control. No, Lance’s featherlight touch merely smoothed down stray strands of hair or simply stroked the back of Bael’s head in soothing circles. It was addictive, being handled like a treasure in this way. Never had Bael felt delicate and handled with care in the arms of another, nor was it something he desired. This man, however, Bael never wished to stop.

He wanted to ask for more, but couldn’t fathom what or how much more he needed. Instead, Bael mulled in silence as he prepared to immerse himself in a history that pained him to recall.

“It may not sound like much, but if you do this for me I’ll tell you a secret of my own. Something I’ve not ever told anyone. Not Orwen, Aryn, or even my mother,” Lance offered, nuzzling his chin against the top of Bael’s head.

At one point in time Bael had mocked Lance for his tendency to be a sentimental sap, having found it a weakness in the other man and not something to admire. Now, Bael wondered who could have given up being the object of Lance’s affection, and how had Bael come to deserve that role instead?

“Promise?” Bael asked meekly, head tilted just enough that his mouth was a hair’s breadth away from the base of Lance’s throat. The dip of his collarbone achingly close, tantalizing Bael’s suppressed desire.

“As long as you’re honest with me it only seems fair,” Lance said, stumbling over his words as his composure faltered.

Bael surmised that he was either frightened of Bael’s truth or nervous to divulge his own. Either way, Bael wished he could wordlessly ease Lance’s tension as he had done for Bael. All Bael knew how to do was cling to him with a silent plea to never let go.

“Where do you want me to start?” Bael asked, knowingly prolonging the inevitable.

“Well, if I may, I would wish to address the elephant in the room,” Lance replied. An idle hand of his made its way to rest atop Bael’s thigh, rhythmically tapping his fingers against his leg.

Bael immediately turned his head downward to observe the nonchalant action. “Suffering from wandering hands, are we?” he teased.

“I was just thinking the floor seems awfully cold. If it’s bothering you you could sit on my lap. That- uh- that is if you want to, anyway.”

“You’re sitting on the floor too, you know.”

“Oh, well that’s no problem,” Lance began sheepishly. “I can be a bit of a natural heater, you see. And if you just, you know, wanted to not be cold it could help.”

“Lance.”

“Y-yes?”

“Just say what you really want. You’re atrocious at flirting,” Bael shot back, hiding a stupid grin on his face.

“Would you- uh, would you want to sit on my lap? Because I’d like it an awful lot if you did.”

He was still physically drained from his panic attack, but Bael managed to find the strength to lift himself off the floor just enough to slide onto Lance’s lap. It was a comfortable fit nestled between Lance’s legs, with Bael’s body quickly wrapped up in his arms. Lance hummed with jovial satisfaction, reflexively squeezing periodically. Such a small act and Bael could sense how he lifted Lance’s spirits immensely. It was too adorable for words.

“Was this your ‘elephant’ so to speak?” Bael asked?

Silence. Bael’s fingers prodded Lance’s chest firmly yet still received no response. Then he began to snap his fingers directly in front of the other man’s face, chanting Lance’s name in a myriad of different voices and octaves. Eventually Lance was roused from wheresoever his mind had wandered, blinking while his brows furrowed as he took in his current circumstances.

“You do that a lot. The spacing out thing, I mean,” Bael noted.

Lance averted his eyes nervously and neglected to give a response.

It amused Bael to no end how Lance tore into this place like a spitfire, but once the smoke settled he returned to being surprisingly docile. Anger appeared to come to him only out of necessity, and being gentle was his true self. Bael was envious of this nature but only out of admiration. Too often his stubborn, vitriolic ways did more to hurt than they ever did to help him. Perhaps his evident attachment to this human all began from a single act of unwarranted kindness.

No, it was without doubt that was the case. A brief flash of a night spent by fireside. It was just last night in the eyes of the world, but to them it was a long gone beginning of understanding. Compassion that would not be undone despite Bael’s persistent attempts to be its undoing.

Bael pressed his head against Lance’s chest, the soft drum of life doing wonders to melt away his apprehensions. It was at this action that Lance sharply inhaled and his body grew rigid.

“Forgive me,” Lance pleaded. “I know moving forward is out of the question lest we expose our truths. I wanted to pause and hold onto this moment for a bit longer. Just in case.”

“There’s nothing you can tell me that could make me despise you. The opposite is much more likely,” Bael answered, a bitter note hiding amidst his words. “You shouldn’t wish to linger in the presence of someone you may come to detest.”

Lance tensed but soon after took a deep breath. “I’m not afraid of you no matter how much you believe I should be. It’s not your past or your secrets that frighten me.” He shifted in place before tightening his hold around Bael’s torso. “It’s the worry that nothing is forever. How quickly a mind can change in the face of strife. At this moment I’m happy, and I don’t ever want to forget how that feels. I want this memory seared into my soul, so that even if this time fades away into nothing it will live with me.”

“And” -Lance shifted his head to press his cheek against Bael’s forehead, his legs curling tighter around them both- “if somehow we part ways forever I don’t want you to forget it either. A selfish wish of mine, but I won’t ask forgiveness for it.”

“I could never forget anything about you,” Bael whispered, chest beginning to ache.

“Maybe not next week or in a month, no, but in five years? Ten? Nothing lasts forever, Bael. Even if we’re still in each other’s lives the memory will fade.”

_I’ll remember this time with you till the day I die._

“Enough being sentimental and foreboding, please,” Bael requested, the fist around his heart squeezing tighter still. “Just tell me where you want me to start before I lose the will to keep my word.”

“Start from the beginning. Of everything. I want to know how you began and what brought you to where you are today.”

Bael gave an abrupt laugh. “You’re a cruel one.”

“I’ve an excellent teacher in cruelty. One who teases me mercilessly without end.”

“And you’ve still a lot to learn,” Bael answered with a chuckle. “Right, well, from the beginning then?”

“The very beginning. Spare no details.”

“It was many years ago, but definitely not as many as three decades, that a struggling apothecarist and his wife became parents to a baby boy. Percival was his name, though he did always hate it. Percy was what he preferred yet he hated that too. Truly, parents shouldn’t name children after themselves, but I digress.”

Bael smiled softly, an expression he pressed into Lance’s flesh so that he may feel the emotion. “He was always alone, that troubled young boy. Then his parents had another child. A girl, actually. He dared to hope he might not be alone any longer. Percy anxiously awaited the arrival of his soon to be younger sister, Lily.”

He squeezed the stuffed rabbit tighter into his hold as his breathing accelerated. At first Bael hesitated, waiting for Lance to stir or speak up. Lance remained just as he was.

“Percy never really got to see Lily, and despite how much he wanted to was never permitted to hold her. She’d been sick since birth, you see. The goddesses made her that way, they used to say. They created her that way. Just to die.”

“My- his father was beside himself, and can you blame him?” Bael continued, pausing as his emotions began flooding into his throat against his will. “A medicine maker with a sickly child and he couldn’t make her better. Percival could barely make ends meet before, so there was no way he could afford unproven treatment from someone else. That’s when he heard a rumor that took root in his brain.”

It was at this moment that Bael chanced a look upward. Lance’s expressive hazel eyes greeted him, affection emanating from a look only puppies should be capable of wearing. He understood too well at this moment how Lance wished to savor a happy moment together. Bael wanted to memorize each line of Lance’s face, from the crease of his forehead to how his hair fell across his cheek.

“He learned of a toadstool that grew in the Lost Woods. One that could cure any illness,” Bael continued after a ragged breath. “It didn’t take long for him to become obsessed that this was the answer. It was then he whisked away his wife and young son in search of this cure. Lily was left behind in the care of a relative, much too young and frail to survive in the wilderness.”

Lance’s jaw shifted before clamping shut once more. His eyes closed partially in a look of uncertainty. Bael smiled to affirm the assumptions Lance was most likely arriving at.

“She was so young and could only speak simply, but when Percy told her goodbye she- ah-,” Bael stopped as a sob wracked his chest.

Without delay Lance quickly began stroking his hand across Bael’s back in a soothing motion. Lance began to shush Bael softly as one would do for a child. His breath was hot as it caressed Bael’s ear.

“She gave him her favorite toy. A stuffed rabbit to take with him, because he was scared and he needed it more than she did. He promised to bring it back with the medicine she needed.”

Bael emitted a low whimper in the back of his throat. “Percy never saw Lily again. It was the first promise he’d ever broken.”

Lance wiped a stray tear that streamed down Bael’s cheek with his thumb. “What happened to Percy and his family?”

“They- ah- they went to the Lost Woods. The children that lived in the forest bade them to leave but Percival was determined. Despite the warnings of what could happen. A man driven by an innate desire to protect his family, I suppose, but truly only beget despair.”

He raised his skeletal hand in front of his face, examining the pristine white bones. Thoughtlessly Bael curled and flexed each digit, unaccustomed to witnessing his mutation. There was a saying, he mused, about knowing something as well as the back of one’s hand. Perhaps it went without question that he understood nothing in this world.

“Deeper, deeper, and deeper still yet they travelled. These woods were vicious and unsavory, not permitting the invaders into its depths the respite of sleep. They stayed awake for days subsisting on rations and foraged food. Optimism withered as madness ravaged Percival. His wife, well, she became catatonic shortly thereafter. Percy, though, that boy never gave up hope. He had a promise to keep, after all.”

Lance reached a hand to glide a cautious finger along the length of Bael’s hand. Reactively, Bael recoiled at the touch but eased as Lance hushed him once more. His sense of touch was limited, yet the sense of heat remained wherever Lance brushed against.

“Percival was the first to be seized by the forest’s curse. It’d seeped into his bones, and so as a result the only that is left is just that. Bones.” Bael cast a wayward glance at the stalfos on the left side, the one whose grasp he had stayed out of reach. After making eye contact, this slightly larger stalfos whined.

“Next was his mother; broken upon seeing her husband transmogrified into a nightmare. Her last words in this world were commanding Percy to run. But he didn’t, as you can imagine. He stayed right there with them.” Bael took a shaky breath, his unoccupied hand reaching up to press against his forehead as visions of the past were dredged up in droves. “Percy hunted after that. Searching for his father’s long sought after cure. Unlike his father, however, he found it.”

“Bael, you can take a break if you need to,” Lance spoke up, worry dripping from his lips.

Bael shook his head against Lance’s chest before continuing. “In a fairy circle, under a stream of moonlight, violet toadstools grew untouched by the world around them. He picked three, just three, for his parents and his sister. His parents, now monstrous skeletons, lashed and bit at their first born child, harming more than just his body.” Bael’s teeth gritted as he recalled the scene. “After a great ordeal he forced them to eat it and after that their bodies grew still. Still alive, I assure you, but weakened. They looked up at Percy with childish eyes despite their new horrific form, and as he reached out to touch them he saw it. Flesh was rotting from his hand as the seconds passed.”

“What happened to them was happening to him now,” Lance stated, eyes widening with comprehension.

Bael nodded. “After that the fairies found them. The curse ceased its progression on Percy, but his parents remained completely mindless. The fairies feared them, and at first they considered killing the whole family. One fairy, though, silenced that line of thinking,” Bael added with a small grin. “She asked Percy if he wanted to be a part of their family, as their presence could ward against the forest’s curse. He conceded, now heartbroken, and begged to let him take care of his parents if he agreed.”

“And they agreed,” Lance finished.

“With great reluctance I can assure you.”

Lance’s head rose and Bael watched him stare intently at the stalfos in the room. “So that’s Percival and his wife,” he concluded.

“Terrible of me, isn’t it? I don’t even remember my own mother’s name, being so young at the time,” Bael answered with a despondent laugh. “That’s Mama and Papa.”

“Your name is really Percy?” Lance asked.

Bael shook his head. “Percy died that day. If I was to live amongst the fey I would be named like one. I’m Bael, simple as that.”

“I would definitely have a hard time calling you anything else,” Lance replied, nuzzling his chin on top of Bael’s head.

“There’s more to the story, and- I-” Bael began, stopping to catch his breath as his body seized up. “I want to tell it all to you, I really do, but I can’t. Not yet. I’m afraid. What I told you is the truth, I promise.”

“I know telling me all of that was extremely difficult. Thank you.” Lance dipped his head down, wincing as he must have strained his neck in the process. He brought himself to eye level with Bael.

“I’ve only ever talked about it with Nyx. You’re the first person I’ve told in a very long time,” Bael said, focus shifting to the side away from the hazel eyes trying to peer into his heart.

“I’ll accept that you have other things to tell me and that you will one day. It’s just- ah- I’ve a couple of things I wanted clarification on that I was hoping to learn,” Lance said sheepishly.

“That can probably be done, but you’ll have to stop looking at me like I hung the stars in the sky. It’s a little much,” Bael protested, reaching his uncursed hand up to Lance’s face to push him away by the chin. He wasn’t certain of it, but for a moment Bael believed he caught a mischievous glint in Lance’s eye. That wasn’t something he had time to acknowledge the ramifications of.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop,” Lance responded. “So- oh how do I put this- so you’re not really a centuries old forest being, right?”

“Correct. And to be fair, I never said I was.”

“You never denied it.”

“You know what they say about assuming too much,” Bael answered, mood lifting as he wiped his eyes and nose on his shirt sleeve.

Lance grumbled but didn’t pursue the matter any further. “How old are you really then?”

Bael answered with an empty gasp of surprise. “I thought a romantic such as yourself would know very well how inappropriate of a question that is to ask.”

“I’ve only ever heard people say that about women,” Lance retorted.

“How old are _you_ , then?” Bael asked, punctuated with a jab to Lance’s stomach.

Lance visibly shifted and his Adam's apple bobbed, a tell-tale sign Bael was learning as a nervous habit of the other man. “I’m...twenty-two,” he whispered.

“You’re such a _baby_ , oh my goodness,” Bael teased.

“Yeah, well, I’m still taller than you.”

“Wow. Low blow.”

“Extra low for you,” Lance countered smugly.

“You know, speaking of low blows, you might want to rethink your words to someone who is perfectly positioned to make that a reality.”

Lance tensed, and it took everything within Bael to stifle that laugh began to erupt from his throat. His hand covered his mouth as he devolved into a fit of giggles and snorts.

“I told you, so you have to tell me now,” Lance barked in embarrassment.

“I’m twenty-nine, you dork.”

“How long have you _been_ twenty-nine?”

As Bael raised his hand feigning a threat, Lance hurriedly grabbed his wrist, causing Bael to look up at him once again. His face was red as a tomato; the corners of his mouth still creased with a smile but eyes were tinged with fear. “I meant do you age normally like me and not whatever offensive way you ended up taking that,” he quickly explained.

“Yes, I do age just like other humans. Aside from the obvious reasons why I wouldn’t be, I’m otherwise a human just like you.”

Lance grumbled before growing silent. Bael peered up at him with his eyes squinted, anxious for what might be on his mind.

“How come you have pointy ears like this?” Lance asked, lightly rubbing a finger at the tip of one of Bael’s ears. As if burned, Bael jerked his head away before covering his ear with his hand. His face flared up a red that could most likely match Lance’s earlier blush. He hated how this made Lance grin like a fool.

“You can’t just touch another man’s ears without warning like that!” Bael shouted, trying and failing to sound intimidating as his cheeks began to burn.

“For such a tough guy, you’re really easy to fluster.”

“A- am not!”

“Just answer the question, Bael,” Lance said amidst laughter.

“Why do _you_ have round ears?”

“That’s not going to work a second time. Plus, every human in Termina has ears like mine.”

Bael huffed before crossing his arms. “Well clearly I’m not a human from Termina, did I not make that clear?”

Lance’s laughter stopped immediately. “Wait- wait- hold on, you’re not from Termina? Where else could you be from? No one has come to Termina from across the sea in centuries.”

“Did my story mention anything about boats? I came through the forest. _This_ forest. From the other side.”

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean,” Lance uttered, his former composure faltering.

“Goddesses, forest children, Lost Woods, those are all aspects from the world I came from. I’m not from this world,” Bael clarified, chest tightening. “I thought I made that apparent.”

“I-” Lance began, blinking as words appeared to escape him. “I guess you did and it just didn’t register in my mind. You’re from another world. There’s another world on the other side of the woods. I believe you, I promise, it’s just hard to fathom.”

“Is this truly the strangest thing you’ve had to accept since the night we met?”

“No it’s just” -Lance hesitated as he dragged a hand through his hair- “you’re from another world. It’s only because of those awful things you went through that you ended up in my world now.”

Bael nodded cautiously.

“It makes me sick to think of what you went through, but I just can’t help but to think-” Lance trailed off as his shoulders slacked.

“Think what, Lance?”

“I would have never met you if none of those things ever happened. The idea of never knowing you and my life continuing to go down the path it was prior frightens me. What a terrible thing for me to think.”

“I don’t think you’re terrible. I just think you’re a lonely person,” Bael reassured, uncertain if what he said was encouraging or making it worse.

“I am.” Lance nodded before squeezing Bael tighter, something he didn’t think was possible but Lance lived to prove him wrong it would seem. “I was.”

Bael smiled as he nuzzled his cheek against Lance once more, sighing softly in contentment. His eyes began falling shut before being surprised by a touch at his chin. He blinked in surprise before looking up to see that look again. An expression Bael had done absolutely nothing to earn, yet here it was staring down at him with the intensity of the sun.

That’s what he was: the sun. Lance was a brilliant star that radiated endless warmth to all around him. Bael was a cold, icy body floating through the heavens. He wanted the sun all to himself but was terrified of being burned alive by it.

“Bael,” Lance whispered, eyes closing as his face began to move closer.

Oh. Oh no.

Bael’s hand shot up to clamp over Lance’s mouth, earning a muffled noise of distress as his eyes flew open mere inches from Bael.

“Not here. Not now,” Bael quickly explained.

Lance whined in dejected disappointment.

Shit, Bael didn’t intend to hurt his feelings. “My parents are right there, you know. Have some modesty,” he teased.

_I can’t accept how easily you’ve forgiven me. Let me earn a place beside you._

Bael shifted in place to lean up into Lance where his hand was still clamped over the other man’s mouth. He pressed his lips to the skin on the back of his hand, never breaking contact with Lance’s puppy dog eyes.

“That’s all you get for now. Ask me again later. When the time is right,” Bael said, pulling back with a wink.

Lance fervently nodded, blushing once again as his eyes focused on the ceiling.

“That’s a good boy,” Bael finished kindly.

Upon saying that Lance’s body shuddered so violently that Bael began to worry an earthquake was happening in the forest this time around. After understanding it wasn’t and catching Lance craning his head back so far he looked as if he’d snap his neck, Bael understood what just happened.

He would file that away as information he would make use of later.

“So what did you want to tell me?” Bael asked in an attempt to change the subject and bring Lance back to Termina.

“About that,” Lance began, bringing his head back down but still not looking at Bael. “Can I tell you later? When we get to my house, I mean. My, uh, my legs are going numb and I’m getting dizzy.”

“I knew that ‘I’m a heater’ line was some fake macho shit,” Bael scoffed. “Dizzy isn’t normal, though, what would make you feel dizzy?”

“My feet- hmm- my feet got cut up walking here,” Lance answered, his voice growing distant.

Bael looked to the side to see Lance’s bare feet, but the darkness obscured whatever condition they could be in. He removed himself from Lance’s lap to crawl down and take a closer look at the injuries.

“What kind of idiot runs through the woods without sho- what the fuck there’s blood everywhere.”

As if the removal of Bael’s body was a light switch, Lance fell backwards mumbling incoherently. The stupid son of a bitch was light-headed from blood loss and had just been sitting here while he bled out!

Rejuvenated from gaining emotional closure, Bael sprang to his own feet and stumbled his way out the door.

“Bael! You’re alright!” four fairies chorused as he surfaced from the house of stalfos.

“Later guys. I need you to get the medical supplies from my house.”

The fairies jittered as they turned to each other in confusion before looking back at Bael.

“Now!”

* * *

Lance became delirious and ignorant of the passage of time. At some point Bael ran back and started bandaging up his feet with some sort of goopy salve. It wasn’t until he was being treated that he realized how much pain he’d been in this whole time. His mind hadn’t been able to divert itself from focusing on Bael, the all-encompassing subject that consumed him.

Apparently he must have closed his eyes and fallen asleep. The next time his eyes opened he was flying through the forest with half his vision covered in white. Lance roused with a groan as he tightened his arms around what he happened to be holding onto. It felt like a person’s neck.

“Finally awake are you?” Bael asked, breathing heavily.

He groaned again. “Where are we?”

“I’m carrying you out of the forest. We’re getting you to a real bed.”

“I can walk just fine,” Lance pouted.

“I know, I know, you’re a big boy who doesn’t need any help walking on his sliced up feet. Luckily with my medicine and a touch of fairy magic you’ll feel right as rain later. For now you’re going to behave and let me get you home.”

“It was supposed to be me carrying you home,” Lance grumbled, burying his nose against the back of Bael's head.

“Supposed to what now? What kind of princely horseshit is that?”

“Just wanted to. This is nice, though.”

It was taking some time to adjust to a new way of thinking. Lance’s preconceptions of what it meant to be chivalrous and a romantic were shifting. Just as it felt nice to be the protector, so too did being protected.

Lance’s eyes closed once again as he listened to the sounds of the woods, this time around absent of any and all fear. He breathed in the scent of Bael, reminiscent of pine and a floral bouquet.

Before falling into slumber, he angled his mouth just behind Bael’s ear before beginning to whisper. “I have one last thing I want to ask of you. When you agree to that I’ll forgive you.”

“I’m still on the hook, really?” Bael balked, stumbling over a branch in his surprise but quickly righting himself. “What is it?”

“I’ll be in charge of handling Ikana City. You’ve had plenty of tries and now it’s my turn.”

“Seriously?”

“Serious as a heart attack. In fact, I’ve already got a plan. Before dawn tomorrow we’re going to Romani Ranch. We need all the help we can get.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have part of a past revealed, yet it still remains that he struggles to come to terms with trust. How long can he withhold against those darling hazel eyes?


	21. Buried

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas! The holidays pulled me away for a long time without updating, sorry about that! Hopefully now that they're almost all done I can resume my normal schedule :)
> 
> This is the longest one so far, so I hope that makes up for all the lost time!

Ache gave way to numbness, then Lance's mind drifted away again. Sleep reclaimed him once more, and he saw the dark-haired forest boy in his dreams.

It was a brief image, hardly giving him enough time to acknowledge the familiar scene. He was tiny as before, held tightly in the boy's arms. A woman was crying hysterically out of view, and the boy smiled down at him.

"Welcome back to the world; it was too soon for you to go. There are people here that still need you," the boy whispered.

* * *

Awareness slowly returned and Lance grumbled while squinting his eyes tighter. The pain from his feet no longer jumped to the forefront of his mind, and was replaced with immediate concern to his whereabouts. His head was lifted by a soft, downy pillow while his body lay cocooned under layers of quilts against a plush mattress. Ah, the familiar comfort of his childhood bed. This instantly put his heart at ease.

That is until he remembered what that meant. If he was in his bed then it was a day after the future spat him back out onto the cold ground of the past. Bael would be coming soon to kick him out of bed and drag him into another bout of hell. Lance furrowed his brow as he willed the world around him to swallow him up instead. A kinder fate than what awaited him.

He shifted to roll onto his stomach and hide his face from the world but was halted by something unexpected. There was a weight over half of his body, and upon further contemplation was a great source of heat beneath his blankets. A hand reached up to feel this mysterious presence but he remained confused. As his hand skirted across it at the height of his hip the warm shape felt as if it trembled against his body.

Finally his hand wandered up to where the weight pressed against his chest and he felt something soft in an abundance of strands. Was it fur? Had his father gone daft and purchased a dog?

Reluctant to awake earlier than desired, Lance peeked one eye open to observe this oddity he was too tired to properly worry about. This lone eye immediately made contact with an amused pair of blue ones, partially obscured by a curtain of white.

Bael rested his chin atop Lance's right breast, his gloved hand poised -was it possessively?- over the left. Lance balked as his state of undress became apparent, his shirt fully unbuttoned and splayed to the sides.

"Well, well, good morning to you too," Bael greeted with a coquettish grin.

In an instant Lance shot up and backward, his back pushing towards the headboard. Bael's jaws clacked together as he bounced off of Lance and rolled away to the side. He groaned but otherwise made no motion to reprimand Lance.

"I- you- why- what is-" Lance stammered, heart pounding as he ran out of space to continue his escape.

Whilst rubbing his chin, Bael's demeanor turned to displeasure before reassuming a pleasantly bemused expression. "You say that as if this wasn't the situation you fell asleep in," he retorted, flipping onto his back and pulling the sheet up to his chin. He clicked his tongue, deeply cutting his eyes towards Lance.

"There's no way anything like this could have happened, considering what was last said between us. That you and I would-" Lance failed to speak the words that came to mind. Warmth bloomed across his face as his ears began to burn. There was something in the back of his mind, muddled as it was, that caused his stomach to roil as it made itself known.

Lance recalled a prior night, perhaps a few or dozens ago, Bael offered his body with liquor on his breath. To the best of Lance's memory he had thoroughly rejected such an offer, hadn't he? He drew the sides of his shirt closed, wishing to remember if Bael was in a similar state of undress as himself.

"It wasn't anything more than what it seems, was it?" Lance implored as uncertainty gnawed away at him.

"Hm hm," Bael tut-tutted. "I've never been the type to kiss and tell, but" -Bael's eyes flickered up before releasing a belabored sigh- "no, I didn't take advantage of you in your vulnerable state. I'm insulted by the insinuation, honestly," he finished, his face unpermitting to convey if his hurt was genuine.

"I-" Lance began, dazed as the tables were turned on him to make him the cruel-minded one in this situation. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to accuse you of anything. It's just- well- you have to admit this whole thing looks-"

"Compromising?" Bael interjected.

"Extremely. Considering what you said to me the last time we talked, and- wait a minute," Lance stated, brows furrowing as more memories returned to his awakened mind. "I don't want you in my damn bed in the first place. I agreed for us to leave each other be, and this is definitely in direct opposition to that agreement."

Bael blinked, his eyes narrowed as his lips slightly parted. He shook his head before returning to that same lackadaisical expression he persisted in wearing. "Wait a minute. Have you changed your mind? I agreed to everything you said you wanted, it's not fair to rebuke me now," Bael insisted, his body beginning to roll towards Lance but hesitating to draw near.

"Changed _my_ mind?" Lance snapped, raising up to peer down at Bael. The other man matched his ire with bewilderment, further igniting Lance. "I've just been going along with what you've insisted this entire time and you want to point fingers at me?"

Lance moved to stand up out of his bed, swinging his legs in a huff and ignoring Bael's unintelligible protests. "Honestly, I'm approaching a limit of how much I can put up with. Maybe I should wise up and listen to my gut for onc-" he began, but transitioned to a yelp as he fell back on the bed.

Standing was painful apparently. Actually, that was putting it mildly, standing felt like _torture_. Lance raised up a foot to see it heavily wrapped in crude bandages with a few stains of blood across the soles. He turned around to eye Bael in accusation, wordlessly demanding answers.

"I tried to stop you but you didn't listen," Bael explained. "You need to calm down. You must have hit your head on a tree branch or that blood loss did a number on you, because you're getting a lot of things wrong."

" _Why does it feel like the skin has been peeled off my feet?"_ Lance seethed, wincing as he begrudgingly returned to his former position. Albeit as close to the edge as was possible.

"Might have something to do with trampling through a wild forest without any shoes."

"I did what? Why? When?"

Bael sighed, bringing his fingers to the bridge of his nose to pinch as he closed his eyes. "What is the last thing you remember us talking about? Really think about it before you go flying off the handle again."

At first Lance opened his mouth to remind Bael of the fight they had last night, but he stopped at the other man's plea. He closed his eyes and attempted to salvage what may have been forgotten.

"I remember...something. You're above me with panic-stricken eyes, saying sorry for something you did. Then I have weird dreams, but the fact they're weird is the only thing I can remember. Then I wake up. All alone. I think I got attacked by a bear, but that must have been in a dream," Lance muttered as he strained to force to the surface whatever threads he could grasp.

"No, that happened actually. Or so I was told." Bael visibly shifted, his eyes straying to the side. "You don't remember anything else?"

"I remember feeling really cold, but other than that I don't think I do. Is that bad? Am I missing something important? Did the bear kill me and that's why I don't remember?" Lance asked.

Bael winced and Lance feared he said something insensitive, quickly returning to his familiar shameful self. "It's not that. It's just-"

"I'm sorry. I don't know why I don't remember, but I'm sorry. Please don't think-"

"Come closer. I've an idea," Bael interjected.

Lance obeyed, trembling with uncertainty but eager for understanding. He needed to know what transpired to result in their going to bed together.

"I said closer. Don't play coy with me now," Bael said, rising to his knees as he shuffled over impatiently.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Lance asked as Bael began to fall towards him, twisting around as he did so to take a seat in his lap.

"Jogging your memory. I did think you were a bit callous and forward this morning, and I'm beginning to believe that's what you could be without your inhibitions. If that's how you acted after losing a little blood, it makes me curious if- well, that's for another occasion," Bael explained, a wry smile as he cut himself off.

"What does any of that have to do with _this_?" Lance asked, hands lifted up with palms splayed outward.

"This is how we talked, remember? In fact this was at your request actually."

"As if I would ever-"

"Oh Bael, you look so cold on the floor, why don't you come sit on my big, strong, _hot_ body," Bael said, pitching his voice down in what must have been an imitation of Lance.

"I did not say that. I don't think I have ever said anything like that in my life," Lance protested, yet the heat in his face returned. There was no hiding the blush this time.

"And this?" Bael grasped one of Lance's wrists. "While feigning a preference for modesty is admirable, that is not at all how you acted. I wouldn't have thought you the handsy type, but you sure proved me wrong."

Lance jerked his hand away, a surprisingly simple endeavor, with a glare. "This isn't funny. Stop- just stop playing with my emotions. Please."

"And yet it's not those things that linger in the back of my mind, no, it's something else you did. Something else you said." Bael removed the glove covering his hand, trembling as he did so.

As the bare bones became exposed, Lance's eyes widened and a knot of shame tightened within.

"You bore witness to that which removes me from humanity and saw not something to be feared. Rather, you saw me. You didn't ask that I fix it or hide it away."

"How could I forget about this?" Lance muttered, uncertain who the question was directed towards.

"I'm not mad," Bael replied, quickly recovering his hand. "It's more concerning than anything. You bled for so long without treatment it's a wonder you were conscious for so long. Not to mention the amount of pain you must have been in."

"Yes, the pain, I'm beginning to recall. Little by little. You apologized, which I'm very happy about," Lance said with a crooked grin. "Then you told me about your parents and where you're from. And- um-" he faltered, hands hurriedly covering his eyes.

"And?" Bael asked, drawing out the word. "Go on then, I need to make sure you remember _every minute detail._ "

Lance was ever so grateful that covering his eyes also kept him from seeing Bael's shit-eating grin. He couldn't confirm the other man was doing it, but the lilt in his voice made Lance certain of it.

"Did I really?" Lance asked finally.

"What did you do? I'm having trouble recalling." Just as a feline who bats his paws at the helpless mouse, Bael shifted to press his weight more firmly on Lance's lap.

"We didn't...kiss, did we?" He didn't believe there was any answer to this that wouldn't make him want to die on the spot to spare himself the embarrassment. So badly did Lance want to push Bael away from himself and hide in the bathroom, but his base instincts demanded he not move.

"No, we didn't," Bael answered.

"Oh." Why did that answer make the mire in his stomach stir? "That's good, because for whatever reason I remember something like that-"

"You _tried_ to kiss me, but I wouldn't let you."

_Hey could some ancient god with a vendetta against my existence come tear me to pieces right about now? Crush my bones? Swallow me whole? No?_

"Oh," he repeated, this time low and akin to a whimper. "I'm sorry, clearly I wasn't in my right head- was it last night? This morning? Either way, I hope you can-"

"Would you just stop getting ahead of yourself, stupid? I didn't say I was upset, did I?" Bael admonished. "If you would stop being so embarrassed about it you'd probably remember that I said to 'try again later'."

Lance blinked and slowly revealed his wary eyes but kept his hands to his face still. "So what you're saying is you're _not_ disgusted by the idea."

Bael nodded, an exasperated yet amused expression on his face. "Sure, yeah, that's what I'm saying."

Lance perked up with a wriggle of his hips, a movement he quickly regretted as it continued to stir a long repressed aspect of himself. "Just to clarify, because I need to hear it for myself, you _do_ like men, right?"

Their eyes locked and Lance so badly wanted to snatch the words from the air so they would go unheard. Bael perked an eyebrow while Lance's jaws silently flapped.

"Do you _really_ need me to answer that for you?" To add emphasis to his words, Bael fell against Lance to press the side of his face against the other man's chest. "That is, unless you and your straight male friends spend your time like this. And if they do, I have some news about your straight male friends."

"No- ah, that's not exactly what I meant. My question is more complicated. I'm not that stupid, I promise."

Bael didn't respond, his only answer being the upturn of his head to pear up in concern. The daylight shining in from the window glinted off his eyes, causing them to glimmer.

"That night, well, on a night that doesn't exist anymore, you came back after our fight smelling like a young woman. I assume you'd been carousing, but I'm not trying to dig up events of the past." Lance flinched, unable to ignore the flash of guilt across Bael's face. "I've just been confused since then. You kissed me in Ikana, but then that happened and I just don't understand."

"Oh, that? That was nothing, I promise. Don't read too much into it," Bael said with a nervous laugh.

Lance sighed, feeling as if he was continuously diverting from the line of thought he was trying to pursue. "What I want to know is, do you like women as well?"

"Huh?" Bael asked, brows furrowed and lips curled in befuddlement. "I- well, yes?"

"So that's a thing people can do and it's not weird?" In Lance's eagerness he permitted his hands to drop as he leaned forward, Bael reflexively shifting back at the sudden movement.

"Of course it's not weird. Is this- is this something you're just now coming to terms with?"

"When should I have? You're the first man I've ever- well, you know," Lance replied, descending into a near whisper as his mind trailed away. "How would I understand it any sooner?" His mind was alight with newfound confidence, though his relationship with his sexuality was still tenuous at best.

"That's not what I heard" -Bael's eyes widened before he loudly coughed- "assumed, that's not what I assumed. Forgive me, I still have some preconceptions I'm working through."

"Heard?" Lance's eyes narrowed as he peered down towards Bael. "Have you heard things from someone about me? How?" His voice rose as he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

Bael sighed, and further to Lance's dismay removed himself from his lap to take a place on the opposite side of the bed. He drew his knees up to his chest and rested his head on top. "Remember how I mentioned that I come to Clock Town on rare occasions? Primarily during the Carnival?"

"I remember somewhat vaguely," Lance answered tentatively.

"You may remember I made it apparent I knew of you before we officially met. Namely your role in the annual stageplay. Well, it's a bit more than that."

Lance offered no acknowledgement, continuing only to stare the other man down with fearful eyes.

"It's a carnival so as you can imagine people are there to party and get drunk. Nothing gets people talking faster than one too many bottles of beer, and most people are getting ten too many." Bael's demeanor shifted, his hands began waving around as he nonsensically illustrated the story. It would be amusing, were this story not heading in an unsavory direction.

"And you listen, because you're not the type to ever let down your guard I'm assuming," Lance elaborated.

Bael nodded solemnly. "I listen, and in the last few years talks of the mayor's son became quite popular. A lot of it petty, mostly born of envy I would assume, but the rest was believable. Your preferences being one people liked to throw around a lot, so it just kind of stuck with me."

"I see," Lance said with eyes downcast. "So you already had a pretty strong opinion of me before ever knowing me, huh?"

Bael nodded once again. "I did. It influenced what I thought of you to a degree, but to be fair I wasn't going to think highly of any aristocrat. I'm still not, actually, you're just an exception."

Immediately Lance was grinning at the half-hearted compliment, though it dropped soon after.

"Hey now, cheer up! You're one of very few living people that's ever gotten a compliment from me. I would feel honored if I were you." Bael gave a gentle nudge to Lance's arm.

"Do you recall ever hearing the name Morrigan when you overheard rumors about me?" Lance broached a subject he dreaded to ever relive, but he didn't forget the other foolish offer he'd made to Bael. Though it disgusted him to say the name, the ease with which it passed his lips pleasantly surprised him.

"Hard to say," Bael answered, eyes now shut. "The fun of the carnival is the masks and the anonymity, so giving your name defeats the point of it."

"Do you recall seeing a girl with nigh endless raven curls wearing a fox mask?" Lance's face remained composed, but his heart pounded as it would staring down the eyes of a monster.

"I think one year, maybe. She was quite a loudmouth if I remember correctly."

"Huh, she actually wore it. I'll be damned," Lance muttered incredulously.

"Lance?" Bael spoke, a mixture of concern and confusion.

As Lance's mind wandered into the darkened hollow of regret and shame, the presence of Bael remained infallibly capable of returning him to reality. He did it with practiced ease, yet Lance could tell Bael was entirely unaware of his power. Even something so simple as his name cast a ray of light on the encroaching darkness that wished to swallow Lance whole.

And it was just his name, yet it was that and so much more. It was the kind of name created for the purpose of being spoken by that deep, honeyed voice. Lance's own voice was deep as well, but he couldn't hear himself as sounding anything but stern. It was brazen to hope, but he dearly wished he had a fraction of that influence over Bael.

"I promised you a secret, didn't I? Something I've never told anybody in the whole world." As he said this, a thought stirred in the back of his mind that this wasn't the truth as he believed. No matter how much he pushed and pulled at the stray idea nothing came to mind.

"Are you sure this is what you want? You don't owe me anything. I've barely even begun to feel like I've made amends," Bael asked, somehow looking even more miniscule beside Lance.

"I'm nothing if not a man of my word. Didn't you feel better after telling me about your past?" As Bael had done a moment prior, Lance reached his own hand out for a reassuring nudge against the other man's arm.

Bael squinted but eventually made a low noise of affirmation.

"I want to repay the faith you placed in me, and it's my decision so you don't get to complain. You promised to do what I say, remember?"

"Maybe I should have let you forget a few details," Bael remarked, finally leaning into the contact.

"Anyway, here's the story of one of my biggest screw ups in life. Her name was Morrigan, and she was the worst thing that ever happened to me."

* * *

" _Hey cutie, what's your name?" a sultry female voice shouted over the roar of the nearby crowd._

_A younger Lance lifted his head in response, jumping slightly at the close proximity. After finishing puberty he'd adjusted to the influx of female attention he received as he grew older, but flirtation never ceased to startle him. Plus, as the son of the mayor he was a well known face in the town so he never had to introduce himself. Once his eyes deigned upon the owner of the voice he recognized her immediately. She was a grade ahead of him in school, and in all the years they were there she had never spoken to him. Maybe she had, since in those days he rarely paid any attention to anyone that wasn't his crush._

" _Are you...talking to me?" he asked incredulously with knitted brows. The night was nearing its end as the carnival continued to roar, which was typically the time Lance tried to slip away and return home. He was certainly doing nothing that warranted attention._

" _Yeah, I've had my eye on you all night. You were fantastic in the play, by the way." As she said this her finger began to twirl around the end of his tie._

" _Oh, thanks. And- uh, I'm Lance," he replied nervously._

" _Wanna get out of here?" she asked, her eyes conveying the meaning her words danced around._

' _Not particularly' was the answer he wanted to give. She wasn't Aryn, therefore this woman had nothing to offer that he wanted. He cast a glance to the other side of the plaza as his best friend laughed till she was bright red in the face. Her new girlfriend, Rachel, was beside Aryn to support her as she stumbled. Rachel's hand had found every excuse to brush against Aryn's all night, a detail Lance was all too painfully aware of, and she was doing so again right now._

" _Sure, where to?"_

_That night was the first time Lance ever kissed someone. It was clumsy, and he could feel how awful he was at it, but Morrigan never stopped giggling and tugging at his clothes. It felt wrong at first, but eventually he permitted himself to try enjoying it._

* * *

_She asked to go steady with him a few days later, and after one too many days playing third wheel he accepted in a fit of jealousy. At first he wanted to flaunt her in front of Aryn, but she would just be happy for him which would only make him even more sick. Plus she had it in her head he was gay because of a stupid lie he ran with years ago, and it was way too late to backpedal now. Morrigan would just have to be a secret for the time being._

_Despite struggling to just be happy being in a relationship, the first week could be considered a fond memory in hindsight. Lots of kissing, affection, and just feeling needed for once in his life. After that, however, this sweet romance began to sour._

_Suddenly she began to compare everything about him to ex-boyfriends of hers. His gentle nature became something to ridicule and she often demanded expensive gifts to earn forgiveness when he didn't even know something was amiss. He saw his friends less and less, save for the few occasions he stole away for himself._

_He was able to juggle this for a few weeks, but this was only the beginning._

_They were spending time together one evening in his bedroom -her home being off limits to him- when she tore into him for not being man enough to make a move on her. That every other boyfriend she had would have had sex with her by then._

_Aryn was supposed to be his first kiss, the first person he made love to, yet here he was acquiescing to the demands of a woman that only made him miserable. No matter the level of disgust he felt he was desperate to be acknowledged. Perhaps this was the only way she might deign to shower him with the affection he craved._

_That wasn't the case as anyone could imagine. She ridiculed his inexperience and nervousness, which resulted in the act ending prematurely with no one's satisfaction._

_His romantic ideals and desires nearly died that night._

* * *

" _We should break up," she proclaimed during one of their weeknight dates not long after sleeping together. It had been a shopping trip, her choice primarily funded by him. She'd led him to stand overlooking the laundry pool._

" _What?" Lance asked, fingers fidgeting at his recently pierced ears. One of many requests of hers he'd accepted with little forethought._

" _Yeah. I've tried to be patient with you, but I think it's still a few years away before you'll be a real man," she answered, admiring her hand nonchalantly._

" _Are you- this has to be a joke, are you serious?"_

" _Lance." Anytime she ever said his name it was in a condescending manner. "It's just not going to work; I don't know what to tell you."_

_He dropped the bags he was carrying -her bags he might add- and spun on his heels. "I have done nothing but every little thing you've asked of me, ranging from benign to outright ridiculous, what more could I do for you?"_

" _Well, for one, the fact I have to ask is a major problem for me. I was going to endure it if the sex was good but I should have known that would be disappointing too," she explained. "Pick those up, they're going to get dirty."_

" _Do it yourself. I'm done," he said, throwing his hands up and beginning to walk away._

" _Wait a second," she said, sighing as she leaned over to pick up her bags._

_Lance hesitated but didn't move to look at her._

" _Look, I'm not completely heartless, okay? I'll do you a favor. I've got a few tips that might help."_

_He bristled but otherwise remained silent._

" _You need to man up, like honestly. It's cute for a little while how careful and sensitive you are but it gets old fast. Also, you probably want to shave the chest. It's not super hairy or anything, but it doesn't go with your baby face. It took everything in me not to laugh at you when you got undressed."_

" _Any other life changing advice you got for me?" Lance seethed, all too ready to spend time in his armoury this evening._

" _Just one more, and probably the most important one. Ditch the dyke, it's not a good look."_

_Lance blinked and his shoulders tensed. "Excuse me, what was that?"_

" _You're close friends with Aryn Romani, right? If you don't know you must be pretty clueless but she's clearly gay. When people see you with her they talk."_

" _I don't care; people can say whatever they want about me." They'd already been doing plenty of that since he was old enough to understand that not everyone liked him everywhere he went._

" _So you're fine with people thinking you're a faggot?" she asked._

" _It doesn't matter what I do. People will always judge everything about me, as you've made all too apparent for me. I'm leaving."_

" _Whatever. Don't cry to me when a woman won't ever touch you again," she answered in a huff, beginning her journey home._

" _Hold on, wait a minute." He stepped quickly beside her to halt her departure. "I- uh, left something I bought in one of the bags."_

_Morrigan rolled her eyes. "Make it quick. Also, for the record, I only went out with you to make Lucius jealous. Which it did, finally, so thanks for that," she added proudly._

" _I see, well, tell him this faggot was glad to be of assistance."_

_He then swung the bags with all his might, sinking them into the laundry pool. It was a divisive moment to recall, torn between shame and satisfaction. It was the last time he ever saw her, and the rage in her voice was a sound he'd never forget._

* * *

_If that had been the end of it then perhaps he would just consider his time with Morrigan a purely awful experience and not the worst one._

_Not long after this break-up was Lance able to spend time with his friends again. At first they teased him for being shut away all this time, eventually relenting after the hundredth time he claimed to have been busy job shadowing for his father. He could smile again and really mean it._

_Then it happened. Friends stopped talking to him. People spoke in hushed whispers everywhere he went. Lance suddenly became unpopular with the citizens of Clock Town, in fact he might go so far as to say they began to hate him._

_From time to time he would hear pieces of the things people were saying about him. Little things, just here and there. Ideas such as his mother's well known terminal illness being faked for sympathy as a political ploy, or that his family had threatened the original actor for the hero so Lance could be the new star. Then it started fixating on him specifically._

_An idea started circulating around that he was a bastard child, interchangeably between his mother and father. Simple enough at first, and not something he hadn't considered a few times in his life. Then speculation on why at age nineteen he had yet to be betrothed cropped up, albeit differently from when he was asked directly. Stories ranged from impotence to the expected debate of his sexuality._

_The capability of humans to be cruel was astounding, and to them it was nothing more than a means to pass the time. Yet all the while Lance's name was being dragged through the mud. Yet surely these kinds of rumors wouldn't make his dear friends stop spending time with him, so what had made them think so low of him?_

_He retained three friends throughout the whole ordeal, the only three friends he continued to keep. Orwen, Thane, and the ever faithful Aryn who remained clueless while living outside of town. Thane grew up in the lower class and had no interest in listening to rumormongers; as for Orwen, Lance never truly understood why he remained steadfast._

_Lance pleaded with the two of them to tell him what they heard that made people absolutely detest him. It was with great reluctance they finally divulged the truth they harbored._

" _Stories have been going around town of you hurting people. Exploiting people that trusted you as the well-liked son of the mayor. It's- well- it's some nasty stuff, Lance."_

_The stories they told remained a blur to him. Flashes of words were the only thing his brain would permit him to salvage. Assault, hush money, and buried infants. Those fragments were enough to gain a full understanding. His friends offered names of people that were claiming to be victims, but not a single one rang familiar to him._

_As his body threatened to void his stomach, he fled to his home where he remained for many weeks. No one could lure him out, not even Aryn when she finally paid a visit out of concern. People were terrifying. He didn't want to live among them any longer._

_Those days were a gap in his history. The world could have flipped upside down and he wouldn't have remembered. There was a chance he could still exist in that self-imposed prison within his home, had it not been for that day._

_Abby found him curled into a ball on the floor of his bathroom, half dressed with hair sopping wet. In his hand he clasped a spare bottle of his mother's pain medication. The lid was in place and the bottle was still full. Her plea to the Giants upon finding him this way was the only thing to shake him out of his haze._

_It was too soon for him to go. Someone in the world still wanted him around._

* * *

"...Lance."

"I always assumed Morrigan started those rumors about me, I mean, who else was going to?" Lance continued, eyes fixated on the opposite wall. The picture of the past in his mind's eye superseded what may exist in the now.

"Lance," the voice called again, sharp noises echoing dull.

"Maybe I'm misconstruing the two events, and really I just deserved to undergo what I went through. The greatest service I've ever provided Clock Town is to be their entertainment."

A blunt force made a quick, irritating contact with his forehead. Lance winced, pressed his fingertips to the inflamed skin. "What was that?" he asked, blinking as his vision filled with the familiar sight of his bedroom.

"When you started talking your eyes went glassy and you never acknowledged anything I said. You just disappeared on me." Bael said, alarmingly close now that Lance was aware. One of his hands was pressed to Lance's shoulder to support his weight, the other hand hovered next to his head.

"Oh, right. I did the spacing thing out again. I'm sorry," he apologized with a sheepish grin, still not entirely focused on his current state.

"Stop apologizing already," Bael huffed. "Lance, I can't believe you've never talked to anybody about this. For lack of a better word this is all incredibly fucked up and I don't know how you function in society with it behind you."

"That's the thing. When I started living my life again people had already stopped talking about me like I was a passing fad. Perhaps they were too concerned about my new status as a shut-in. Since no one knew but me and the rest of the world moved on, I just let myself forget. As much as one can anyway."

Bael's mouth opened and closed, clearly struggling with just saying _anything_. A rare trouble for him as far as Lance was concerned. "I- I'm honored beyond words you'd tell this to me of all people. To make yourself _re-live_ a nightmare." Bael's hands dropped to curl into whatever fabric was within reach, Lance's shirt being included. "If I ever meet this woman I don't know if I'll be able to control myself," he muttered with teeth bared, chest heaving.

Lance hurriedly shook his head, lightly patting Bael on the side of the face to recapture the other man's attention. "Don't, please," he implored, yet his heart took pleasure in the veiled threat. "She's not worth dirtying your hands over."

"I'll never be able to wash away the years of filth from my hands," Bael bluntly replied, eyes narrowed and averted. "I will stay my anger purely at your request. Never again will I allow myself to be the reason you suffer."

Lance smiled. Despite everything, he still smiled.

"You know, you act like a tough guy all the time but I think you're just a big softie underneath all the prickles," Lance noted.

Bael reeled his head back, mouth parted as his face turned red and eyes widened. "That's not fair, fighting back now would just make me look like an asshole."

"Why fight?" Lance began, feeling his reservations abate as tensions eased. "Have you tried being a lover instead of a fighter?"

No, even he wouldn't deny the heavy-handed implications he was carelessly throwing out. His shoulders remained squared and his head elevated, hopeful for once he might be able to maintain the upper hand in one of their charged exchanges.

Bael's stern demeanor held fast for a few seconds longer before he burst into laughter. "I'll admit that was better than this morning, but your lines still need some work."

Lance frowned but wouldn't permit himself to be despondent for long. "It was worth a try."

Much to his surprise, Bael moved away and pushed himself off the bed. "Well, I'm glad we embarked on this emotional journey today, but I've got a patient that needs his bed rest."

"You don't have to go," Lance quickly spoke up. "I promise the next time I wake up I won't freak out."

Bael clicked his tongue as he padded over to the bookshelf against the wall. "I'm coming back, lover boy. Though, I have to say your light-headed self made a more convincing argument this morning; whining and cooing for me to sleep with you. Never have I heard a man beg so much when the clothes are staying on." He traced a finger over a row of spines before extracting the one he sought.

Lance pursued his lips when Bael looked away. Then it occurred to him there was something missing, or rather someone. "Hey, where's Nyx at?"

"As she put it to me, she went to go sightseeing because the sight of you pawing at me for hours on end was getting to be more than she could tolerate." Bael returned to the bed with book in hand, crawling to Lance before settling in beside him. "Her words, not mine."

"You're making this up now, come on. I find it hard to believe I lose a little blood and start acting like an animal."

"That's _close_ to how I would describe it," Bael answered, a joke in his tone that eluded Lance. "Here." He laid the book on Lance's lap then pulled the blanket up to his chest.

"What's this for?" Lance asked, finding the book somewhat familiar to his recent memory but unable to place it.

"I said a lot of shitty things that night, okay? Some of it about this book in question, but I have a confession to make about it actually."

Lance picked up the book and observed the cover. It was one he'd read a couple of times, not a remarkable story but it satisfied that craving for a happy ending when it came. And it always did.

"You have a confession about 'The Knight and the Rebellious Princess?" Lance asked, puzzled. "Are you actually a fan of romance books too?"

"Is that what it's called? I just picked it out because it had the dorkiest cover. That's besides the point" -Bael shook his head- "I, uh, can't read. I only guessed what it was about," he spoke before lowering to a mumble.

"Wait no one-"

"You don't have to make fun of me, okay? Reading wasn't useful for survival so it was never a priority," Bael said defensively, his body tensing but remaining close.

"I wasn't going to make fun of you, but that does answer my question." Lance opened the book and flipped the cheap newsprint pages, an old folded paper falling out from where he last left off. "Did you want me to read it to you?"

"You can read it to me if you _want_ ," Bael answered brusquely.

"Bael."

"...yes."

* * *

The rest of their day was spent in company of each other, undisturbed by the other house occupants unaware of the return of the young master of the house. Periodically Lance would rouse from his numerous naps to a small meal prepared by Bael, and never once would the other man give a clear answer how he was able to sneak about the house undetected.

Dawn approached sooner than any wished it would, and with it Nyx returned to their side once more. Lance on multiple occasions began to ask if Bael's account was true, but in fear of the truth he allowed sleeping dogs to lie.

With his injuries healed and a clearer head on his shoulders, Lance departed his home under the veil of night once more. His destination was Romani Ranch, for once without uncertainties plaguing his mind. For once he wouldn't be arriving alone. Lance could barely contain his eagerness to see and speak with Aryn. All the things he could tell her.

"Laaaance," Bael whined, his arms tossed over Lance's shoulders while pressing their faces together.

"No. You'll find out what you need to know when it's relevant," Lance sternly replied.

"You're no fun. Let's talk about something at least. I'm bored."

It never ceased to amuse Lance how childish this older man could be sometimes. "If you're feeling talkative then you pick a topic. It's only fair."

Bael hummed without giving a response. Good, then maybe he could focus on navigating Termina Field before the sun had even risen above the Ikana Mountains. Fortunately, the approaching dawn kept the bubbles at bay.

"Tell me more about how I'm responsible for changing your sexuality," Bael whispered into Lance's ear.

"How about instead we talk about how you cried at the end of that book last night?" Lance announced, elevating his volume for all to hear.

"Killjoy."

They rode on in silence after that, but after several minutes of Bael prodding his side and loudly sighing he relented. "Aryn's the key to getting my plan off the ground; I need her to get Rachel's cooperation. She has connections to important people."

Bael stilled as he listened without so much as a peep.

"I'm getting us to the Don of the Valerio family."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please leave a comment giving me any feedback you'd like me to have. For those that have stuck around following the story to the ones that just discovered it today, I thank you from the bottom of my heart.


	22. I Hope You Didn't Know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So after the long delay for the last chapter I was hoping this one would be a lot more timely, but I think it ended up taking even longer. January has been a bit of a roller coaster for me, both in the world and in my personal life. My dad passed away this month, and it's been really hard dealing with the aftermath. I always kept coming back to the story in my free time, as Lance and Bael are often my own way of processing my own emotions. 
> 
> Anyway, enough of my rambling. Once again I would like to thank those that follow along with this story and find some enjoyment in this passion project of mine.

_Lance leaned down to the ear of the information trader. Thane’s insistence went in one ear and out the other as he remained focused on the task at hand. An odor of decay was all that lingered from the cackle they rasped to beckon Lance forward._

_“You hesitate, but the haste in your step foretells a secret threatening to bubble over,” the old crone whispered as Lance worried at his lower lip._

_“I’m the mayor’s son, the one everyone was talking about several years ago. I tried to kill myself when it became too much for me.” Lance felt his chest seize as he recalled that bygone time._

_The crone inhaled deep through their nose as the single crimson eye within their cowl appeared to squint. “Now that I get a better look at you -the real you- a bit of information won’t do any longer.”_

_“What?” Lance asked, fear overtaking his hushed voice. Thane’s whimpers of displeasure fell upon deaf ears._

_“No wonder my poes are so taken with you, sonny. They see a fragmented soul like yours and want nothing more than to gobble you up.”_

_“I don’t understand. Are you going to tell me about the toadstools or not?” Lance asked, voice cracking as he squared his shoulders._

_The crone laughed under their breath. “I wonder just how long you’ll last without your container.”_

_A loud crack resounded against the cobblestone alleyway as Lance began to back away._

_"Yes, yes! That is a fitting exchange, sonny."_

* * *

“Just to give you the benefit of the doubt that I’ve suddenly developed a hearing problem, I’m going to ask you to say that again,” Bael said, still draping his arms over Lance’s shoulders as they rode under the archway over the entrance to Milk Road.

“We’re going to arrange a meeting with the Valerio family Don and explain everything with Aka and Ao. With some advanced notice I think the leaders of Ikana City could stance a chance to fight back. It could give us a chance to kill Aka before anyone has to get hurt,” Lance explained, eyes focused on the darkened road. The first inklings of the orange of sunrise cracked across the eastern horizon, but the land of Termina remained cloaked in shadow.

Bael reached a hand up to firmly pinch Lance’s cheek, pulling the skin taut and causing him to wince with a groan.

“Cut it out, Bael!” Lance whined, slurring his words while unable to rest his face free.

“I’m just doing this to make sure I’m not dreaming. At least, that’s what I’ve heard people say. Right, Nyx?”

“Other way around, B. Right now you’re just checking to see if Lance is dreaming,” Nyx answered, lazily fluttering her wings while resting atop Oberon’s head.

“Oh. Huh,” Bael mumbled, releasing his vice-like hold.

Lance groaned again, fervently rubbing his cheek. “You don’t even sleep, why would you be dreaming?”

“I do too sleep, thank you very much. Anyway, you do me now.” Bael lifted his arm in front of Lance’s face with the shirt sleeve hurriedly rolled up.

Lance swatted the arm out of his face, pulling the reins roughly to the left to avoid steering off-course. “Pinch yourself, and don’t block my eyes unless you want a mouthful of muck and gravel.”

“On second thought, I know this is real. If this was my dream we’d be doing something a lot more fun. Only the real Lance would tell me _we’re going to walk into a gangster stronghold to ask for help,”_ Bael hissed, fingers clenching into Lance’s sleeves.

“Clearly you don’t have any better ideas, so I think I’m permitted this gamble.” Lance’s voice remained steadfast despite his hands quivering. “After everything I did to conceal you from them you just want to hand yourself over on a silver fucking platter? I hope you’re only so keen to do this because you’ve repressed the memories of how they hurt you,” Bael spoke low as his grip tightened. “My body may not remember but my mind certainly does. The thought of even going to that city again makes me want to retch.”

“Then _why_?”

“We can never move forward toward the future if we keep running from the past. I choose to learn from it. Working alone -it’s what you’ve always done. For me, well, I’ve always depended on others. I let you shoulder it all and that’s not how this will be won. I want to- _will_ be a person you can depend on. And the only real power I have is my voice.”

Lance could feel Bael’s tension slack but his consistent physical contact remained. He didn’t respond, but Lance could feel Bael’s head nod against his back.

“I know that sounds like complete hogwash considering how clearly standing up for myself is not an aptitude of mine. People _terrify_ me, truly and deeply. Yet, when it comes time to speak and someone depends on me? I change. I thought only my mother could make me brave, but you Bael- I want to be brave for you too.”

A heavy pause settled over them, aside from Bael’s persistent sniffling that he claimed was residual from last night. Lance was visiting Romani Ranch once again, and again he needed his best friend. It was different this time. He wasn’t running from a problem, nor was he alone.

* * *

_Tap. Tap tap tap. Tap tap._

_THWACK._

“Why don’t you just launch a damned tree through the window?” Lance hissed.

Bael merely rolled his eyes and resumed tossing pebbles up to the second story window. Albeit this time they rarely made contact with the glass or the roof, and Lance shot another look towards Bael to find him blindly tossing stones into the sky. What a child.

“Nyx, would you go up to look if Aryn is awake?” Lance focused his eyes on Aryn’s all too familiar bedroom window.

“Oh, is Nyx here? Funny, I thought we’d forgotten all about her,” Nyx answered flatly, slowly floating into view. Her fixated stare on Lance spoke volumes of her irritation.

A pebble flew by just overhead of Nyx and himself and Bael sighed with an exaggerated shrug. “You kept pushing for us to get along, not liking it so much now that you got what you wanted?”

“I think I just forgot how nauseating you can be. It’s better than being at odds, sure, but only marginally.”

“Guys can we do this another time-” Lance began but was quickly cut off.

“I’ve played third wheel for you how many times now? And every time I’ve always-”

“Whined the entire time, B. Whined like a big baby. You sure can dish it out but you can’t ever take it when it’s your turn.”

“To be fair your taste in ‘companions’ has been…” His expression was downtrodden before shifting towards mischief.

“Better than yours?”

“Please, let’s not wake up the whole-”

The window slid open in one swift motion causing the three of them to jolt. A billowing wave of burgundy hair concealed the face of the person they had awoken. A small hand pushed against the mane, pressing it back and flat to reveal an exasperated young woman.

“Lance Arthur Wisteria, you better have a good explanation for waking me up thirty minutes before the cuccos- oh, you’ve brought a friend.” Aryn leaned forward sticking her neck out as she squinted. “Is that a bloody fairy?”

Lance turned an irritated stare toward the two siblings.

“Sorry,” they said in unison.

* * *

“Wow, I can’t believe it was that easy,” Bael said, walking several paces behind Lance and Aryn as they headed towards the stable.

Aryn, with swiftness developed over years of routine, cooed her gelding awake and began preparing him for the impending trip. After Bael spoke she exhaled sharply through her nose before throwing Lance a disapproving look. “I can’t believe you dragged him here without making it clear that I’m your cool ‘ride or die’ best friend. Lancelot, I’m disappointed.”

Lance’s body became rigid as he emitted a small guttural yelp. He cautiously turned his head to gauge Bael’s reaction. The other man blinked but remained otherwise expressionless with his lips mouthing something indistinct.

“I mean,” Lance began with a nervous cough, “I never doubted you’d be one to help me out in a time of need. It’s just that, you know, I haven’t even explained what it is even that we’re doing.”

She finished adjusting the final strap and gave the speckled horse a comforting pat on the neck. “Well sure, you’ve never really asked me for anything this weird before, but when have I ever turned you down when you’ve asked?”

Lance smiled. “Only when I asked you to let me out of the water closet the night you locked me in.”

“When have I ever turned you down when ignoring you _wasn’t_ in your best interest?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped promptly to duck when a currycomb flew by a hair too close to his head.

“I know what you were going to say so just shut up. It’s not like I won’t get you to explain, it’ll just be later. For now” —she cut her eyes towards Bael before returning to Lance— “I wanna know more about this whole thing.” She clicked her tongue before strutting over to Bael, a beaming smile on her confident face. “I don’t reckon I introduced myself, my manners aren’t the best before I’ve had my coffee. My name’s Aryn, Lance has been putting up with me since we were little kids.” She stuck out her hand in greeting. “What’s your name? And yours as well, little fairy.”

Bael blinked, clearly stupefied by the events that were unfolding. Here Aryn was, a head shorter than him and kind as could be, yet his hesitation was palpable.

Nyx flew between them, her body appearing more illuminated and vibrant than it was moments prior. “I’m Nyx, and this is my little brother. I know that must seem strange to you, but we’re as close as any family ought to be.”

Aryn reached her other hand that was not awaiting a handshake to lightly tap Nyx on the head, eliciting a surprised gasp from the fairy. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Nyx. And don’t you worry, I’m not in the practice of judging others. Family is all about who makes us happy and taking care of one another, the rest is just extra steps.”

Nyx produced a chiming noise, akin to the sound of a small bell. “Thank you,” she said, soft and low.

Suddenly Bael grasped Aryn’s hand, his grip wrapping around her wrist as they stood locked in place. “I’m- my name is Bael. It’s nice to finally meet you, um, Aryn.”

Aryn hummed, head nodding up and down as she did so. She clicked her tongue before tilting her head to the side. “He’s cute, Lance,” she said unabashedly. “Where’d you two meet?”

Asphyxiating in a roaring inferno under the knife of Bael’s condescending scrutiny was the memory that came to mind. Maybe that was too much, how about flat on his back under a literal weapon under threat of death? No, that wouldn’t satisfy Aryn’s desire for a conventional romantic tale. It was evident from the manner she rocked to and fro on the balls of her feet. Besides, those moments weren’t when Lance really met Bael. Those were times he met an apprehensive stranger with a deep distrust of humans. When had he truly met the other man for the first time?

“In the forest, believe it or not,” Lance answered calmly, his typical bashful response to being the center of conversation abated as he watched Bael buckle from the weight of whatever was on his mind. Lance walked over to Bael’s side, pressing the side of his arm against Bael’s and smiling at the small sigh the gesture earned. “My stability was fading fast due to stress and I ran to the forest. It was a strange compulsion, but it appeared to be exactly what I needed. I met someone who saw my pain, but in turn I also saw his. I guess I should say we both found something we needed.”

Ice-cold skin brushed against the back of Lance’s hand. It was uncertain, cautious, and Lance so badly wished to hold it tight. Fear of the unknown dissuaded him, so he settled for bumping the hand back in kind.

Aryn clasped her hands together in front of her face as a large grin overtook her face. She beamed at them both, causing a lump to form in Lance’s throat. “If it weren’t for waking the whole farm I’d be a squealin’ right now. I’m so happy for you!”

_I think maybe, just maybe, I’m finally learning how to be happy without you._

“So how long?”

Lance lingered in stillness for a beat too long, the knuckle of his finger drawing circles on the back of Bael’s hand. He blinked as it registered he was being addressed. “How long what?”

“What do you think?” she asks, eyes darting quickly to their not-so intertwined hands before returning to meet Lance’s once more.

He first concluded that the answer would be weeks, of course, but soon realized that his accounts of time spent were not contiguous. How long had it really been, and just what is this starting point she’s asking about? Since they met? Realized his contempt had vanished only to be replaced by infatuation? Or perhaps it was the moment it was made known that Lance felt a certain way, and much to his surprise Bael felt it too.

There was no clear cut definition of beginning, and the time they spent belonged to worlds whose knowledge of existence belonged to them alone. It was entirely unconventional; the realization of which spawned a seed of uncertainty deep within his belly.

“A couple of days, I think,” Lance answered, voice distant as he remained trapped in contemplation. His confidence in his feelings deflated as quickly as they had originally ignited.

Aryn clicked her tongue. “I take that to mean nothing has happened between you yet,” she paused, waiting for a response.

Lance squinted but noticed Bael hurriedly shake his head without a word.

She then nodded. “We can talk more about it on the road. I’ve got Snickerdoodle saddled up, so you go make sure Mousse is ready too.”

Lance was patting Bael on the back and turning towards him. “Would you mind waiting by Oberon for me? I’ll be out in just a second.”

Bael began to open his mouth with an evident question on his lips but let it drop as he did what was requested. He seemed all too keen to leave the stable on his own, but Lance decided to pay it no heed. There was something more immediate on his mind.

“Hey, can we talk for a minute?” Lance asked once they were alone.

“You’re getting me to go and talk to Rachel, aren’t you?” Aryn’s face dropped the previous jubilance.

“I can’t slip much by you, can I?” Lance offered a small smile, unsurprised by her suspicion.

“I’ve known you too long. I know that you want to fix other people’s problems even when there’s nothing for you to fix.”

Her words were like a hot knife slicing across his flesh. He bit his tongue as his eyes clamped shut for a moment. “You think much more highly of me than I deserve.”

“In most times that wouldn’t be a compliment, but at this moment I value that aspect of you. Though, I’m beginning to wonder...” She pulled her horse from his stall and gazed up into his eyes.

He dared not volunteer to answer her silent quandary.

“Are you having second thoughts? I’m certain when you asked me you didn’t expect to meet someone so soon after.”

Lance shuddered and his knees began to buckle. He was forced to support himself against the wall as he lost the ability to stand unaided. Aryn reflexively reached a hand to help him, but retracted it once she saw his wide-eyed expression.

“I’m sorry!” she shouted, “we don’t have to talk about this now. I’m grateful you wanted to help me regardless of what comes.”

“When I asked you to talk it wasn’t about Rachel,” Lance spoke slowly, eyes closing as he grew dizzy. “I wanted to lead into it slowly, but you’ve always been able to read my mind. Always throwing me off when I try to be ahead.”

She smiled once more, but with genuine fondness. “I’m older; you’ll never be able to outfox me.”

“Aryn.” Lance took a deep breath. “There’s something I need to tell you- have been needing to tell you. For a long time.”

Her head tilted to the side with a raised eyebrow.

“I didn’t” -his eyes clenched shut, fingers idly trailing over the aged wooden walls of the stable- “I didn’t ask you to marry me with wholly kind intentions.”

Aryn squinted, but otherwise didn’t press for more information. She waited patiently for him to divulge further.

“I would never have had the guts to do so if you hadn’t been under threat of betrothal to the Gorman family, or your younger sister for that matter, but still my motives are marred by something else. I” -his fists clenched, biting down on his lower lip until his tongue was coated with the taste of iron- “love you, Aryn. I always have for a long time. I just- I just wanted to pretend you could feel the same way about me. Rachel was always right to hate me, and you should hate me too.”

This wasn’t going to assist with any of Lance’s grand plans, hell, it would likely only serve to hinder them. If he had to abandon the Aryn and Rachel plot, so be it. He had a few other back up plans, fatal though they may be. He cared about her too deeply to choose to do otherwise.

The stable fell silent, aside from the periodic deep breaths of her horse as his excitement climbed. His eyes remained closed, which led to his surprise when two arms wrapped around his waist.

“You shouldn’t never be ashamed of loving somebody. Loving someone is the greatest gift you can give them,” she whispered before pressing her forehead against his chest.

Moisture rimmed the edge of his vision. A gasp, barely above a whimper, escaped his throat.

“I’ve loved you since the day your mama brought you to play with me when we was little. My mama thought maybe a ‘delicate little boy’ like you could calm a tomboy like me down. Neither of ‘em knew the hell we would raise together. Bless those women.”

Her hand raised to settle against his cheek, scratching it against the flecks of stubble along his chin. “I’ve always known you felt it more strongly than me, but you’re still my best friend. I’d rather die than hate you for caring about me.”

Lance returned the hug silently, curling down until he was at her height. She hummed a familiar melody.

* * *

“You just don’t get it! I can feel _everything_ you’re feeling and almost as intensely. I’m a couple dreamy-eyed stares away from snogging him myself,” a small feminine voice said.

That was the first thing Lance heard as he rounded the stable door, with dried eyes and a bounce in his step. The sound of hushing quickly followed. Lance locked eyes with Bael, the other man looking sheepish as he pinched Nyx between index finger and thumb.

As the two men eyed each other, Aryn placed something atop Lance’s head as she sauntered past while donning a hat with a wide brim and high crown. She spun on her heels, walking backwards with a playful grin in the direction of Oberon. “A Romani doesn’t saddle-up underdressed, Lancelot.”

“Aw, but I look awful with hat hair. I’m only wearing it because you’re helping out. Bael, I don’t want to hear anything-” but Lance stopped as he caught Bael’s look.

Bael’s eyes were wide and blinking intensely. His lips were slightly parted and Nyx was now able to easily escape his grasp, all the while groaning and gagging.

“Lance, sweetie,” Nyx began before abruptly shaking her body as if surprised by her own words, “I’m flying on ahead to Ikana City and will meet you guys at the city gates. If it weren’t for the girl I would have a request for you, but that will only have to wait. Maybe dump him in the swamp a few times for good measure.”

She was gone before he could seek an explanation without sparing a look back. Lance took a quick glance at Aryn to see she was paying them no mind in the interest of providing Oberon with some welcome affection.

“Hey- uh- if I ask am I going to get an answer?” Lance inquired.

“Nope,” Bael answered, already at Aryn’s side to cautiously offer a hand for Snickerdoodle to smell. “Aryn, was it? Why do you call his horse ‘Moose’?” Bael asked as he stroked the neck of the spotted steed.

“Aw well, if you’re gonna have an owner it’s important you have a name, right? If he won’t give the horse one it’s the least I could do to show him the courtesy. Plus, don’t he look the color of a fluffy brown mousse?”

Bael tilted his head to the side as he stared at Oberon in contemplation. Lance rolled his eyes as he pushed the hat down on his head and got into the saddle. “Well I’ll have you know he has a name now: Oberon.” He announced the horse’s name with a satisfied clap on the horse’s side. “Now, are we gonna wait for the whole farm to wake up or can we get going?”

Aryn clicked her tongue but cooperated nonetheless. “Now I _know_ you didn’t come up with something that fanciful,” she teased. Soon after she meekly gasped as Bael followed her onto the horse, taking his usual seat behind the saddle. She lifted an eyebrow as she looked back at him.

“Oberon looks a little tired of always carrying two people is all. Really,” Bael hurriedly explained. “As he was saying, we really should make our way to the canyon.”

Lance met Aryn’s worrisome glance before she peeled down the pathway out of the ranch. Oberon knickered in excitement as he watched them disappear into the morning fog. Something unpleasant wound its way tightly around his stomach, but all he could do about it was frown.

“Alright boy, mind if we take a quick stop by the swamp on the way?” he asked with a laugh.

* * *

The emerald green of Termina Field became the only thing Lance could focus his eyes on.

He trailed behind the pair riding up the path while intentionally maintaining a healthy distance. From what he could observe they fell into a comfortable conversation he was just out of earshot of hearing. On occasion Aryn would turn her head back to look for him, shooting a befuddled expression but otherwise leaving him be.

Lance loved Aryn and his feelings for Bael were blossoming into something even deeper, so why did seeing two of his favorite people together stir such an unpleasant sensation within himself? His stomach roiled as his palms became uncomfortably sweaty. Watching Aryn’s head toss back in exuberant laughter or Bael wrap his arms around her waist became an irritating sight.

Oberon whinied, and Lance’s attention were drawn to his ever faithful companion. He combed his fingers through the thick black mane, soothing the beast’s distress.

“Things are really different now, aren’t they old friend? I’ve barely had time to process it myself, I can only imagine what you must think of it,” Lance whispered, scratching Oberon on a favorite spot right behind the ears.

“I always thought I would have to learn to be content as an observer of others’ happiness and I’d made peace with that. Despite the tribulations thrust upon me, I’ve ended up stumbling upon the answer to a long suppressed wish. There’s no time to really process how anything makes me feel, because there’s always a new trouble or catastrophe. I’ve just been going with the flow and riding the waves of satisfaction as they come.”

Lance sighed, foolishly allowing his eyes to coast up to see them once more. “Truth is, I’ve not taken into consideration what I want out of any of this. Am I just excited for the attention? Is that why it burns to see what I believe to be mine doled out to another?” Lance asked, the obvious answer burning in his mind but deciding to be resolute in avoiding it. “Or is this something real? Maybe I’m losing my head in this all too quickly. We’ve known each other, what, barely a week technically? I’m not sure there’s even a timeline to discovering you want someone’s eyes on you and only you.”

Oberon’s ears flickered as Lance slacked in his own attention, causing him to chuckle at the similarity. “Things are so much easier for a horse. If you fancy a mare you have your instincts to tell you what to do without a second thought. It’s a lot trickier for humans, and for me especially. Especially since all my lessons about courting a lady have flown out the window. How does a man tell another man his interest in him? And how do you know who is supposed to do the initiating?”

Lance felt silly confiding in a horse, but it was nice to speak without worry about the judgment of someone else. Besides, Oberon had always been an excellent listener. With a few sugar cubes you’d have his rapt attention for an entire evening.

“And of course, it’s not escaped my mind that there are other things between men I don’t understand. The only one I could ask is Bael, and well, I’ll admit I’m not entirely ready to ask him those kinds of questions.”

Oberon knickered, causing Lance’s train of thought to divert completely.

“I’d like to see you ask a pretty girl how in the world you’re supposed to have sex with her, because that sounds like a quick way to get laughed out of town,” Lance spoke, quickly realizing how idiotic what he just said was and thanking the heavens the others were out of earshot.

“You know, I was just kidding about the extra request. Didn’t know it was something you’d actually been thinking about,” piped up Nyx, hovering just above Lance’s face.

“...how much of that did you hear?” he asked, face heating to unbearable temperatures.

“Enough. So, Mr. Not-a-Cherry-Boy, getting cold feet already before you’ve even opened the door?” Nyx asked

“Please pretend this conversation never happened. Name your price and it’s paid.”

Nyx exuded a bright shimmering noise, and given her excited bouncing he could only interpret that as a laugh.

“Have it your way. Think of my price as a promise you’ll make to me. I know you’re young, even by human standards, and I can feel the powerful emotions you’re experiencing. If you ever want to talk to someone who won’t judge you I’ll listen,” she said, settling into the crook of his arm as a wave of calm washed over him.

Lance nodded meekly, too shy to verbalize a reply. Though, something else occurred to him in that moment. “I thought you were meeting us at Ikana? Why are you here?”

“Oh, the other two are already past the gate heading towards the city. They said you were looking like a sad puppy, but the girl seemed too eager and left you to me. As for Bael, well, he’s still just being weird.”

Before Nyx finished her reply, Lance was spurring Oberon into a gallop as he sped off into the city. A fear not unlike what he felt staring down the giant god Odolwa filled his being.

He couldn’t let Bael find out the wrong things. Not this soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh the tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive.


	23. Please, Say to Me

“Doing this is just going to give him the wrong idea. You know that, right?”

Bael, with his attention pinpointed on a distant flock of birds, blinked as he looked at the source of the voice. “Huh?”

“Forgive me for prying,” Aryn said, her left hand waving dismissively. “I’ve just known him a long time and don’t want to see you accidentally get off on the wrong foot.”

Wrong foot? He and Lance had already gotten off on the wrong everything, it was too late to scrutinize such minor details. As if she could understand Bael’s well-meaning intentions; the nerve of her to imply he was in the wrong once again.

“What do you mean the wrong idea? I haven’t done anything wrong.”

Well, it didn’t mean Bael didn’t still want to know the secrets this long time best friend knew. It did nothing to aid the insignificance he felt at the infinite well of history they shared, but he dared not linger in that way of thinking.

He didn’t think of her as an enemy, absolutely out of the question. Bael met her with trepidation as was typical of his aloof nature, but any bitterness was not against her. He was ignoble, and seeing the first person to set Lance’s heart ablaze made that abundantly clear.

She was wonderful, radiating energy and kindness. He didn’t blame anyone for falling for her, honestly. Yet here he was, surly and vulgar. Saying the wrong things, doing the wrong things. Bael was only good for scratching an itch and satisfying an impulsive need. Lance wanted much more than that, but how does one begin to _be_ more?

Aryn took a deep breath. “No one’s saying you did. I just would bet you anything right now he’s sitting back there stewing in his own confused, sour emotions. I watched him be possessive of his mama as a boy, then be the most insufferable grump anytime my attention was divided. Guess whose turn it is now.”

Bael squinted towards the back of Aryn’s head, irritated at being unable to get a read on her face. “So I should walk on eggshells in case I hurt his feelings?”

“No, no, heavens no. I just hope your ass-kissing ability is up to snuff because- huh, maybe I should use a different figure of speech.”

His lips pinched inward as he attempted to stifle the noise bubbling from his throat. Eventually his reluctance to expression was overcome by the loud guffaw that burst from his mouth. Bael’s arms wrapped around his stomach as he curled inward. The sound of Aryn laughing joined in soon after.

“So you can laugh after all!” Aryn exclaimed.

Once Bael calmed down from his fit of laughter, he maintained the delighted crinkle of his eyes as the temporary warmth settled in his stomach. “What you’re trying to tell me is that he’s the type to need a lot of reassurance and attention. It’s starting to sound like I’ve adopted a puppy.”

“I mean, have you seen those eyes? You can bet he was a spoiled brat at times growing up. As if a mother could look at him and say no. And I mean that in the best of ways, don’t get me wrong. He adopted just about every scruffy neighborhood dog and cat he could find.”

“Here I would have thought he was a perfectly well-behaved, prim and proper young man. Never stepping a toe out of line, always doing exactly what his parents expected of him,” Bael said, a degree of sarcasm in his tone.

“Oh honey, do I have some stories for you.”

* * *

“Can you believe it? The boy decides to take in a stray kitten, white as snow, and names her _Pumpkin_ of all things,” Aryn regaled as the two of them passed through the entrance of Ikana City.

“Is he colorblind?” He hoped not, orange just wasn’t his color.

“Apparently the story is that he found her living around a nearby pumpkin patch. Instead of thinking of anything clever, he just copied my method of food names with the first thing he saw. If it wasn’t so funny I’d be a little mad.”

Bael’s stomach was sore from the frequency of belly laughing he’d done on their trip here. The smile etched on his face began to fade upon their arrival and the reminder of their purpose weighed heavy on his mind. Aryn appeared to be in good spirits, but Bael couldn’t help but notice her hands tremble while holding the reins. Evidently sharing stories and making merry was as much for her benefit as it was for his.

“Maybe we should wait for him to catch up. This is his idea after all,” Bael said, relapsing into his prior nervous demeanor.

Aryn tossed her head from side to side. “I can’t.”

“I need to see my love.”

* * *

“Uh, where’s the fire?” Nyx asked, jostling up and down from the horse’s movement.

“Something bad always happens when I let him out of my sight. I’m not taking a chance,” Lance answered after a brief pause.

_I need to get this wedding fiasco resolved before he finds out about it._

“Hm, reasonable enough.”

Fortunately Lance could easily navigate to the clinic, by this point the entire layout of Ikana City was seared into his brain. Market-goers hurriedly sidestepped out of his way, a few tossing curses but otherwise the hustle and bustle was nothing unusual to see. Each time someone locked eyes with him, his stomach would sink and his body began to shudder. The eyes of the living were not too dissimilar from the eyes of the dead. His hands ran up the length of his arms, recalling the phantom sensations of dulled teeth tearing his skin with abnormal strength.

Without his walls protecting his mind, this place was a nightmare to return to. Every face was a threat, any divot in the ground was a sign of Aka being birthed from the earth. There was nothing here that didn’t wish to cause him terrible harm.

_Come on now, you can’t let this get the better of you. You know all the events that will happen over the next couple of days like it was your morning routine. Aka won’t wake up ‘till tomorrow, and none of the citizens will turn until after that. Just breathe._

And breathe he did, now noticing Nyx was nested in his hair while pressing against his face. Truly he did not feel genuine relief until he saw brilliant white hair that stood out against the masses all around. There Bael stood timidly beside Aryn’s horse, as Aryn stood outside the clinic door with a hand on Rachel’s shoulder.

Lance approached cautiously, holding his breath for fear of making a disturbance. Bael quickly turned his head at the sound of Oberon drawing near, and his face lit up seeing who had arrived. It was then that the static in Lance’s mind finally fell silent once more.

Eying Aryn, he could see that she had moved a hand to Rachel’s waist. Since no one knew her here, it would seem it made her behave in a more brazen manner. Rachel would attempt to pull away, but Aryn would whisper something to her that caused her to relent.

He hurried to Bael’s side after dismounting, but his nerves were losing their resolve as he came within arm’s reach. It was so much easier yesterday when Lance wasn’t concerned with doing things exactly right. As it stood he didn’t even have a name for what existed between them, only a feeling that made his heart race and his palms clammy.

Should he touch Bael? Aryn was having no trouble showing affection to her girlfriend, clearly, so why shouldn’t he follow the same notion? A hand reached out to try and grab Bael’s, but the moment his eyes flickered down at the movement Lance grew fearful and backed away. Was that a flash of worry in Bael’s eyes?

“Hey,” Lance finally greeted.

“Hey yourself.”

“Have any idea what they’ve been talking about?”

Bael shrugged, and it took everything within Lance to not sink down onto the ground in relief. “No. At first Rachel was pretty upset to see Aryn, but I think a few flutters of her lashes melted that stony exterior.”

“Ah, yeah, I can’t blame her for that one,” Lance said with a wistful sigh.

In response Bael’s nose scrunched up and his arms crossed. “Of course, I don’t think she’s realized yet that you’re here. Nor that this isn’t a visit for pleasantries.” His head tossed to the side to look at the couple. “You should probably break the news.”

This was the last moment of peace they were going to have until this ordeal was finished. When, no, _if_ something terrible happened this would be the last thing he would remember when he woke up. He had noticed a trend that his memory was much poorer if Bael wasn’t in them. Realistically it was most likely related to himself being fae-touched, but Lance liked to imagine it was indicative of a special bond deeper than either could fathom.

_This is your time. Say something romantic; something that’ll make him have that bashful smile. Create a moment to hold onto when you’re broken and battered in the beast’s jaws._

“You’re really cute when you pout like that.”

It wasn’t winning any awards, but it was the prevailing thought on his mind he wished to make known.

Bael’s head snapped around with his lips parting, unintelligible words sputtering as he slowly rose to his tiptoes. “I am _not_ pouting,” he retorted, cheeks tinged pink.

Lance couldn’t help but grin, as Bael was anything but threatening now. More than anything he looked like a little boy who just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Instead of being the guilt-ridden type like Lance, he opted for angry denial.

“That’s the part you really want to latch onto?”

Bael exhaled heavily through his nose. “Yes.”

Lance’s shoulders sank, disappointed at this turn of events. “Are you sure? It’s going to be all business and survival from here out. It’s our last chance to be just us before something unspeakable happens.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Bael said tersely. “I only agreed to this because you made me believe in you. You don’t get to foretell gloom and doom now. We _are_ winning and you _are_ going to live. End of discussion.”

Lance smiled. “You believing in me is the only thing making me believe in myself. I’m actually terrified of all of this when you’re away from me for too long.” He worried at a loose thread at the end of his shirt, which caught Bael’s attention all too quickly. “Promise me you’ll stay by my side to the end.”

With his bare hand, Bael reached out and snatched Lance’s worrisome one to interlace their fingers. All indications of timidness had apparently subsided. “Whenever you’re afraid or think you’re in this alone just reach out to me. We’ve both been through too much to feel like we’re alone.”

Their thumbs both traced circles on the other’s hand, filling Lance’s heart an overwhelming sense of ease. He sighed softly with yearning. Yearning for the time to understand what it was he was experiencing, and to learn it with someone so dear.

“And thanks, by the way. You’re cute when you get jealous over me,” Bael added, teeth pinching the tip of his tongue in a mischievous expression.

“You’re such a jerk.” The bite of his words were softened by a stifled laugh.

* * *

When Rachel’s eyes cut upward at Lance, letting him know exactly how she felt about his presence, he began to understand how a fish felt on the butcher’s table. The smallest crease of a smile disappeared as she all but turned her lips into a deep frown. She pushed Aryn away ever so slightly, earning an annoyed whine in turn.

“Oh, already at the matching outfit stage are we? How could I ever compete with that?” Rachel spat, the hand on Aryn’s arm tensing as her eyes narrowed.

“Babe, don’t be like. Besides, look at them! Aren’t they-”

“I see someone who’s oblivious to the pain in their future. That, or he doesn’t care and it’s just me who takes issue with this situation.” Her focus shifted to Bael who was eyeing her suspiciously in return. “Take it from me, there’s only heartache to be found here.”

Bael’s hand squeezed around Lance’s, igniting an unfamiliar feeling in his gut. The hairs on the back of Lance’s neck bristled and his eyebrows knitted tightly together.

“You can condescend to me all you like, Rachel, but I won’t let you direct your anger at me towards him,” Lance snarled.

Rachel’s eyes widened as Aryn took a step back. In a surprising move, Rachel gave a crooked smile at his outburst.

“So there is a spine in there after all?” She paused, turning her head to the closed door of her clinic as the noise of the people within rose. “Aryn informed me there was at least one thing you wanted to tell me that I would like to hear. Let’s continue in my office.”

Then they followed without a word. As if on cue, Aryn slipped her hand away from Rachel and twirled a lock around her finger and thumb. Instinctively Lance tried to follow suit, seized with sudden fear. Bael would not permit it and only held onto him tighter.

These people here only wished to harm him, and this was an additional reason to do so. In the whirlwind of recent happiness Lance had neglected to carry his anxiety along. It had become so easy to forget the world at large and the pain they were capable of inflicting.

Lance took a deep breath and pinched his eyes shut. He had no place for unrealized worry in his heart, for it finally had a new purpose instead. Make Bael smile, and never let him cry for someone so unworthy as himself again.

Never again would either feel loneliness or ostracized, Lance swore to himself as he was blindly led through the lobby. It was okay to have faith again, to trust in another person so fully, with all of his entirety.

The sound of a door creaking open was shortly followed by a pair of light footsteps disappearing behind it. The hand that held his so carefully ceased pulling him forward, causing Lance to immediately halt in place while still without vision. A calloused thumb ran over the soft skin of his hand.

“It’s scary being different, isn’t it?” Bael whispered, so low that Lance could scare and hear it himself.

He nodded, an eye now peeking open to see they stood at the end of the hall away from any onlookers. Aryn and Rachel must have gone in already and left the door cracked just a hair. A scant moment of isolation, yet somehow enough to round in his paranoia from careening out of control.

“Terrifying. But I’ve always been different in a myriad of ways, I suppose this is just another one to come to terms with.” Lance offered a dopey grin that quickly turned into a grimace as he saw Bael’s tense expression.

“Thanks for not hiding, I know that would be the easier thing to do.”

“You’re right, it would be easier. But doing the right thing and the easy thing are rarely the same.”

Bael squeezed his hand again with a shaky breath. “I was scared too, but not about what other people would think.”

“What could frighten you?” Lance regretted his choice of words the moment they left his lips, but his meaning was sincere. What of mundanity could frighten someone so fantastical?

“The thought of you being ashamed of me. I couldn’t bear it.”

“How could I be ashamed of you, Bael? You’re so- I mean-”

“It’s nothing you’ve done to make me think it. I’ve just-” But he failed to verbalize what plagued him. He heaved a heavy sigh.

Typically cryptic responses were lost on Lance, having limited understanding of the complexity of other people. This, though, he understood. This was a lingering, incessant concern that refused to relent.

“You’ve been treated that way before, I’m guessing?”

Bael nodded, and quiet reigned over them both. Another reminder that Lance knew next to nothing of Bael’s past aside from the glimpses he had been permitted. The shadow that loomed over their fledgling relationship grew larger and more dense. Yet, it was not the only feeling. A sensation of warmth radiated from his stomach until his entire body grew hot.

 _Ask me again later,_ the thought shot like a lightning bolt through his mind.

Was this the perfect time Lance had been keeping an eye out for? A bold statement to make his intentions, no, his heart known? He took a trepid step forward.

“Bael, may I-”

“I’ve not got all day. Hurry up and tell me what you want to say,” Rachel called out from behind the door.

Lance took two hurried steps back. Bael spun on his heels and led them into Rachel’s office.

Another day, he supposed.

* * *

Rachel sat at her desk, lipstick smudged with a scowl on her face. Aryn stood the side with her back against the wall, rubbing her hands on her upper arms.

Dense as he was, it took only seconds for Lance to put the pieces of this puzzle together. Poor Aryn.

“First thing’s first; Rachel, I owe you an apology” -Lance winced, hesitating to continue- “and I should apologize to you too, Bael.”

The hand that held his laxed, a small action that pained him greatly.

Rachel appeared indifferent, but she didn’t appear angry so that was enough to keep Lance talking.

“What I’ve not told you -and still don’t know how to tell you- was before I met you I made an agreement with Aryn. Her parents were seeking to marry off their eldest daughter to a suitor they approved of. Their first choice was a son of the Gorman family from a rivaling farm, a man close to her father’s age. In a bid to save her I offered my own hand. We’ve been engaged for a couple of weeks now.”

Bael remained silent, but his hand stayed in place. Lance squeezed it, only to receive a weak response several seconds later.

“I still maintain that my base intentions were honest” -Lance paused as Rachel’s eyes levelled with his in a bloodthirsty glance- “but it was riddled with unsavory motivations. It took me too long to acknowledge it, Rachel, but I am today. I was in love with her and desperate to keep her with me. We made these arrangements without involving you because I really didn’t care what you thought. It was wrong. I’m sorry.”

Rachel sighed as she pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers. Aryn stared out the window, nursing a hidden wound.

“This is why I can’t make myself like you, Lance. Even when you _apologize_ for what you’ve done wrong you act like a coward,” Rachel answered in a level voice.

Lance squinted, but made no effort to answer her. He stood up straight and squared his shoulders.

“So you’re telling me you _were_ in love with _my_ girlfriend for years and the feelings have vanished, just like that? Something shiny and new comes along, and you just abandon all of your feelings? What kind of husband would you be to her if you just drop all interest just like that?”

“Well, I-”

“I’m not the unreasonable person you all think I am. If you two had had feelings for each other and talked with me like adults I would have left you alone without a word. Clearly that’s not the case and you’ve been a dog at our heels since the day I met you. I tolerated you as an annoying infatuated kid, because that’s all you were to me. You’ve never threatened me, let that be clear.”

“What do you want from me, then? Do you want blood? My head?”

“I want you to be _honest_ with me. For once in your fucking life just be honest.”

Lance's eyes narrowed as he peered downward in self-reflection. Be honest about what? Everything he had said was the truth laid out plain and simple. He looked to the side to gauge Aryn’s response but her face remained turned away. Bael was his last hope, but his face was turned away from Lance as well.

“What am I- oh.”

Of course, how stupid of him.

“Nobody gets over love so easily, of course. Especially not the first person you were in love with. Those feelings will live inside me for the rest of my days. But that’s my burden alone, and not one I wish for anyone else to bear.”

Immediately Lance noticed the sensation of Bael pulling away, but he grasped tightly and refused to let him go. Bael yelped at the sudden reaction before attempting to yank his arm away. He was ruthlessly strong, and it felt as if Lance’s wrist would snap. Lance’s determination, however, was even stronger at this moment.

Rachel, though clearly getting what she wanted, took no pleasure at the distress she had wrought. In fact, her face appeared more sympathetic than anything.

“Bael, I promise you, you’re not my second choice. I truly believe you’re the person I’ve been waiting my whole life to find. I may live with the dull ache of that unrequited love, but the thought of losing you makes me wish for nothing but oblivion.”

The hand tensed once again before Bael’s body began to shake.

“Everything is so new and moving so quickly, and I don’t even know what to call what this is. Believe me when I say all I yearn for are the days when the only thing I do is feel myself falling in love with you.”

It was hard for Lance to believe he just said this aloud and so succinctly, much less with an audience present. It wasn’t something he was ready to say, but he didn’t believe he was ever going to feel ready to feel so forthright. His body was too frightened to say what he meant, so words would just have to do.

“And so the boy has finally become a man. Congratulations, Mr. Bael, you have done in moments what I’ve wanted to see from him in years,” Rachel stated dryly.

Lance so desperately wished to see the look on Bael’s face, but was met only with the other man’s face buried into his arm. Bael shook his head as he tried to burrow deeper into hiding. He frowned, feeling all eyes hone in on himself. A nervous smile was all he could muster.

“So are you calling it off then? Or am I getting my hopes up for nothing?”

Lance shook his head, surprised at the lack of a reaction from either of the girls.

“That doesn’t surprise me. You want a solution that lets everyone have a happy ending, don’t you?”

“Of course, otherwise what’s the point?”

“Chivalrous as always. I hope you manage to impress me with what you come up with,” Rachel finished with a smile.

That was probably the first time he’d ever earned a positive reaction from her that wasn’t forced. It felt nice, and something he’d like to get used to.

“Ehem,” Aryn sounded, loudly clearing her throat while pointedly staring at Rachel. “I think you’ve forgotten about someone over here.”

“Lance and I just needed the chance to clear the air, love, please-”

Aryn promptly shushed her, causing Rachel’s lips to clamp shut as her head jerked back in what could only be described as fear.

“Where’s _my_ apology? I’m glad everything is all hunky-dory now, but you’ve been treating me like a dog lately. No, actually, you wouldn’t treat a dog like that. More like a piece of garbage.”

“Aryn I had every right to be angry-”

“You’re older than me, yet you’ve been giving me the silent treatment like a toddler.” Aryn’s face was red as her cheeks puffed out like balloons. “You pushed me away from you. That hurt, Rae.”

“When you dropped this news on me it made _me_ feel like you were pushing me away,” Rachel answered with a pained expression.

“You’ve gotta use your words! Tell me when I hurt you, otherwise I can’t fix it. Closing me off fixes nothing and just makes us unhappy.”

Rachel reached out her hand, chin tucked close to her chest. “I’m...sorry, Aryn. Will you forgive me?”

Aryn accepted, appearing to glide across the room as her hand slid into Rachel’s. Their fingers knitted together with practiced ease.

“I have more to say, but” -Rachel nipped at her bottom lip before clearing her throat- “it can wait until later.”

So it’s okay for Lance to spill his guts, but Rachel gets to retain some of her dignity. His lips curled into a look of displeasure, though it softened as he noticed the two pulling at one another with starry eyes.

Oh. That kind of later.

“Well after all that mushy sentimentality, though I’m deeply grateful it happened, I believe there was something you wished to ask of me?” Rachel spoke up, shattering the warm haze that had settled about the room.

Bael finally pulled his head back, face red and irritated from wallowing into Lance’s shirt. His eyes were focused ahead.

“So- ah, how do I put this- I need to make use of your connections to speak with someone.”

Rachel raised a brow, lips tightening as her uncertainty heightened.

“You know, _important government_ people,” Lance continued with a wink.

“How do you…?”

“I’m in politics, remember? Anyway, something awful -I mean, _awful-_ is going to happen to Ikana in a day’s time. I need to tell people that can do something about it before it’s too late.”

She visibly hesitated, and he couldn’t blame her. Aryn looked visibly confused but apparently decided to not press the issue. Losing the peace she had just earned didn’t appear to interest her.

“This isn’t a good idea, Lance, though I can tell your intentions are well meaning. They’ll just-”

“Please! It’s a matter of life and death. For everyone here.”

Rachel cast a look up to Aryn who only nodded.

“Very well. I’ll call my brother.”

* * *

Lance had only met Torian Thorne on a handful of occasions and never face to face. He was an imposing figure, to say the least. On the back of his left hand were two carefully placed cigarette burns, an indicator of a family member with notoriety. There were three near perfect lines on his right cheek. Scars without a doubt. Two were partially jagged, but the third was perfectly smooth.

Torian was always at the side of the Ikana mayor when the so-called “leaders” of each state had official meetings. He never spoke, aside from the frequent whispers into the mayor’s ear. There was reluctance in his voice when Lance overheard their conversation on the phone. Rachel, for reasons Lance couldn’t fathom, worked hard to convince her brother to cooperate.

His hesitation faded when the person in need of aid was named. The tune of his horn changed completely, and soon Lance found himself deep underground in the city’s catacombs. Rachel and Aryn stayed behind, naturally, but Bael was of course ever at his side with lines of worry etched into his face.

When Lance met Torian eye to eye, the older man only scowled down at him as he pressed down flat the lapel of his three-piece suit. As they walked through the murky underbelly he only spoke a single sentence the entire trip.

“Pretty brave of you to walk into our den without any weapons.”

It was a point Lance had brought up with Bael, but the other man assured him no weapons would be needed. Lance opted to interpret this optimistically, but the realist in him knew the truth behind his words.

Finally they arrived at a solid, ornate oak door wedged into the decrepit stone walls. Torian knocked thrice upon the door and stood still in waiting. Roughly half a minute passed before the door was opened by an unseen individual.

“The door’s open,” uttered a gruff sounding voice from deep within.

Torian grunted, the only indication he gave that he wanted them to step in first. Lance did so, with Bael at his heels. Immediately upon entering the door slammed behind the three of them and several pairs of eyes shined on him from the dimly lit room. Before Lance could offer a greeting, the sound of a hammer being cocked was heard uncomfortably close to his head.

He took a tense breath, the sound of Bael grumbling in irritation briefly apparently. The individual at the back of the room who was obscured by a tall-backed chair chuckled before spinning around.

“Like father, like son. Not many other men have the brass balls to make demands of me to my face. To what do I owe the pleasure of the Wisteria boy standing in my office today?”

Hideous yellow eyes shone in the dark. The man speaking to him snorted through the large nose of a swine. He dabbed his cigar onto an ashtray before bringing it to his lips.

“Cat got your tongue, boy?”


End file.
